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CopprifiWeb  ^ril  26,  1907 


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Jforetuorlr 

The  tragedy  of  ^^Giafae"  is  not  a 
creature  of  the  imagination.  It  is  based 
upon  a  strictly  historical  plot.  The 
cruelty  which  Haroun  Al  Easchid  dis- 
played toward  his  Grand  Vizier  and  the 
beautiful  Abassa  are  perhaps  the  only 
stain  upon  the  character  of  the  other- 
wise noble-minded  Khalif  of  Bagdad. 

Stage  adaptation  has  not  been  pri- 
marily considered  in  the  writing  of  the 
play.  It  has  been  the  aim  of  the  writer 
to  present,  upon  an  Oriental  background 
of  years  agone,  the  unageing  problem  of 
the  conflict  between  soul  and  sense  in 
the  evolution  of  Love. 


196108 


©ramatisi  ^ersionae 

HAKOUJS-  AL  EASCHID,  Khalif  of 
Bagdad. 

GIAFAK,  Grand  Vizier. 

ABASSA,  the  Khalif  s  Sister. 

H  ASF  AN  A,   Abassa's  Companion. 

O^FAR,  Chief  of  Saracen  Army. 

YAHIA,  Giafar's  Father. 

FADHEL,  Giafar's  Brother. 

OBEIDAH) 

Counsellors  to  the  Khalif. 
KHALED  I 

ABU  NUWAS,  a  Court  Poet. 

ZIILEIKA,  an  Old  Sooth-Sayer  of  the 
Harem. 

^.■^.■^.•^•^^•^•^.^. 

Slaves,    Eunuchs,    Guards,    Officers    of    State, 
Women  of  the  Harem. 

SCENE:     Bagdad.     TIME:     Beginning  of  the 
Ninth  Century. 


SCENE — Magnificent  apartments  of  Abassa, 
richly  decorated  with  tapestry.  A  fountain  in 
the  center.  The  female  train  of  the  harem 
reclining  on  embroidered  cushions  on  both  sides 
of  a  high  couch  on  which  Abassa  is  seated; 
Hasfana  at  her  feet  holding  a  zither;  on  the 
other  side  of  the  couch,  Zuleika.  Two  eunuchs 
stationed  at  the  entrance  of  the  apartment. 
The  scene  is  illuminated  by  the  crimson  lights 
of  the  sunset  which  through  a  columned  open- 
ing in  the  rear  reveals  the  towers  of  Bagdad. 

ABASSA, 

I'm  tired,  Hasfana,  with  these  gilded 
follies ! 

Our  roses,  hardly  plucked,  begin  to 
wither ; 

Our  jewels  cease  to  charm,  and  e'en  the 
music 

Of  waters,  falling  in  melodious  rhythm. 

At  last  grows  dulL  My  heart,  the  des- 
ert pilgrim. 

Finds  its  oasis  fading  as  mirage. 

And  as  the  cooling  breeze  that  wooes  at 
twilight 

The  burning  plains,  will  die,  ere  stars 
appear. 

There's  naught  that  lasts. 

HASFANA. 

Save  love,  my  fair  Abassa ! 


ABA88A. 

Love's  but  a  pleasing  phrase,  its  mean- 
ing vague. 

Once,  when  young  Omar  dared  to  raise 
my  veil, 

And  sent  his  fiery  glance  into  my  soul. 

There  was  a  flash,  soon  lost  amid  the 
clouds. 

HASFANA, 
Why  then  took'st  pain  to  keep  the  fatal 

secret 
From  Haroun's  knowledge  ? 

ABA88A. 
Little  would  I  gain 

By  making  skulls  to  season  dreams 
withal. 

HA8FANA. 
Alas,  I  tremble  for  the  life  of  Omar. 
Should  Haroun  know  the  truth.     The 

mighty  Khalif 
Is    kind    and    generous;      but    where 

Abassa 
Is  lightly  treated,  he  shows  claws  and 

teeth. 

ABA88A, 

Thou  would'st  not  fear  for  Omar,  were 

he  not 
Close  allied  to  thy  heart. 


HA8FANA. 

Oh,  mock  me  not! 

Thou  art  the  sun  of  beauty,  all  the  stars 

Must  pay  thee  homage,  but  the  humble 
light 

That  flickers  in  my  heart  burns  out  un- 
noticed. 

ABA8SA. 

I  pity  thee,  yet,  though  unloved,  thou 

lovest. 
Two  deep  emotions  never  known  to  me, 
And  therefore  envied. 


HASFANA, 

Here's  a  song,  Abassa, 
That  fits  thy  life.      Two  verses  only: 
Listen. 

(Singing  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  zither.) 

The  flowers,  so  fragrant  and  so  fair. 
Soon  with  their  bloom  must  part; 
To  perfume  turned,  enrich  the  air 
AVhere  thou,  Beloved,  art. 

The  dreamers  who  behold  thy  charms, 
In  love  for  thee  have  blushed, 
And  fain  would  linger  in  thy  arms — 
To  honor  thee,  are  crushed. 

ABA8SA. 

Thinl^'st  thou  of  Abdul  ? 


HASFANA, 
Aje,  of  Osman,  Hossein 
And  hosts  of  others  who,  by  passion 

spurred, 
Have  crossed  thy  path ;  thy  beauty  took 

them  captive, 
Until  the  headsman's  sword  gave  free- 
dom. 

ABA88A, 

(Pensively.) 
Love? 
From  all  thou  sayest  I  perceive  most 

clearly 
That  'tis  a  two-edged  sword;   it  cuts  as 

well 
As  conquers. 

HASFANA. 

And  whose  blade's  a  shining  mirror, 
Wlierein  the  quality  of  hearts  is  tested. 

ABASSA, 

Love  left  thee  shipwrecked,  yet  upon 
the  rock 

That  crushed  thy  ill-starred  boat,  thou 
seekest  refuge ! 

Ere  thou  met'st  Omar,  life  to  thee  was 
pleasing, 

A  gentle  breath  astir  in  myrtle  groves; 

Xow  tears  are  hidden  'neath  thy  sweet- 
est smiles. 


And  sighs,  unnatural    to    thy    tender 

years, 
Make  discord  in  thy  speech. 

HA8FANA. 

Extract  the  thorn, 

Alas,  the  rose  goes  too !  The  thought  of 
Omar 

Is  yet  the  vital  spark  of  all  my  days; 

Without  it  there  is  naught.  If  he  did 
love  me 

The  hope  of  Paradise  would  never  tempt 
me 

To  leave  this  earth;  and  now  the  hope 
of  earth. 

The  fond  illusion  that  through  chance 
or  change 

His  heart  may  yet  be  won,  makes  Para- 
dise 

E'en  of  my  lonely  hours. 

ABAS8A, 

This  must  be  love ! 

For  such  a  dream  of  bliss  I  glad  would 

give 
My  pearls  and  palaces,  my  rank  and 

riches. 
What   would'st   thou   think,   Hasfana, 

should  I  choose 
To   love   thy   Omar   who,   thou   say'st, 

loves  me  ? 


EASFANA. 

Love  is  no  slave  that  comes  at  beck  and 

call; 
She  is  the  mistress  of  all  hearts ;  may'st 

open 
The  windows  of  the  soul,  yet  can'st  not 

hasten 
The  coming  of  the  sun. 

ABAS8A. 
Speak  thou,  Zuleika! 

ZULEIKA, 

Would'st  learn  of  withered  flesh,  how  to 

embrace  ? 
Would'st  ask  this  toothless  mouth,  what 

is  a  kiss  ? 
I'll  answer:    Love  is  not  a  butterfly 
That  dances  blithely  from  bud  to  blos- 
som; 
It  is  a  flame,  of  hell  and  passion  born. 
That  lights  a  fever  in  the  dizzy  brain 
And  rages  madly  till  it  spreads  con- 
tagion 
Upon     another.       When    the     fire     is 

quenched, 
A  vampire  sucks  the  essence  of  the  soul, 
Until    the    darling  dream  becomes   a 

nightmare ! 
Love  is  a  snake — 


10 


(Enter) 

A  SLAVE, 
The  Kuler  of  the  Faithful! 

ABASSA, 
I    am    prepared     to     meet    my   noble 

brother ; 
Admit  the  Khalif . 

AL  BA8CHID. 

Allah  and  his  prophet 

Bless  thee,  my  fair  Abassa !    How  I  love 

To  enter  here,  where  dreams  and  music 
float 

Like  gentle  spirits  in  the  perfumed  air ! 

Indeed,  there's  naught  in  all  my  vast 
domain 

Which  to  my  heart  can  give  such  bound- 
less rapture 

As  to  behold  thy  beauty. 

ABASSA. 
Surely  none  ? 

AL  BASCHID. 
One  other  only    of    this    world's  rare 

pleasures 
I    ask    besides    Abassa's    charms,    the 

thoughts 
Of  my  Giafar;    take  these  two  com- 
bined 


11 


And  I  would  give  my  realm  from  far- 
thest shores, 

E^en  to  the  gates  of  Bagdad,  in  ex- 
change. 

ABASSA. 

When  every  tongue,  wherever  the  cres- 
cent rules, 

Proclaims  Oiafar's  name  with  fond  de- 
votion ; 

Tell  me,  my  brother,  why  Abassa's  eye 

Shall  ne'er  behold  him. 

AL  BA8CHID. 

'Tis  against  the  laws 

Of  thy  great  ancestors.       The     royal 

blood 
That  flows  within  thy  veins  will  e'er 

stand  guard 
Against  the  lesser  grade.    I  love  Giafar, 
Yet  higher  mountains  rise  ^twixt  thee 

and  him 
Than  jnortal   foot   has   ever   dared  to 

climb. 

ABASSA, 

Thou  art  omnipotent.       I    pray    thee, 

brother. 
Relieve  thy  lonely  sister's  idle  hours 
By  the  companionship  of  some  great 

mind, 


12 


To  cheer  the  day,  to  fill  with  dreams  the 

night, 
To  give  a  soul  to  this  love-longing  form. 

AL  BA8CEID, 

How  could' st  thou  read  my  thought,  ere 

yet  I  mentioned 
Aught  that  pertained  to  thee   and  to 

Giaf ar  ? 
'Tis  woman's  intuition  which  to  reason. 
Like  sun  to  moon,  appears  the  greater 

light.^ 
Listen,  fair  sister,  Llaroun  has  decided 
To  merge  two  pleasures  into  one  grand 

dream 
Of  happiness ;  thy  beauty  and  the  brain 
Of  our  Vizier  shall  now  provide  the 

pillars 
O'er  which  the  temple  of  supremest  bliss 
Will  rise  all-glorious ;  in  this  very  hour 
I  will  unite  you  to  be  man  and  wife. 

ABAS8A, 
Enthrilling  thought!    ^ew  worlds  un- 
fold before  me. 

AL  RA80HID. 

Aye,  sweet  Abassa,  heretofore  hast  been 
A  lily  white  adrift  on  golden  streams, 
But  now  hast  reached  the  sea;    a  fair- 
winged  swan 


13 


Upon  the  shoreless  ocean  of  true  love 
May'st  glide  unfettered. 

ABASSA, 

Would  ray  throbbing  heart 
Could  move  apace  with  thy  fleet-footed 
•word! 

AL  BA8CHID. 
Soon  night  will  fold  her  wings  before 

the  dawn ; 
Have  patience!     Meanwhile  I  demand 

of  thee 
A  certain  promise. 

ABA8SA, 
Granted,  ere  thou  speakest! 

AL  BASCHID. 
That  you  will  never  meet,  when  I  am 
absent. 

ABASSA, 
Was    ever    mortal    marriage    thus    re- 
stricted ? 

AL  BASCHID. 
A  marriage  of  two  minds,  that  lasting 

union, 
Which,  like  the  tree,  survives  the  falling 

leaves. 
The  bubbles  of  the  blood. 


14 


ABAS8A, 

In  love  the  changes 

Of  ebb  and  tide,  the  dream  and  the 

awaking, 
The  longing  and  the  loss  are  !N'atnre's 

self. 

AL  BA8CHID. 

Here  is  no  argument,  but  my  decree: 
Wilt  thou  obey  it  ? 

ABAS8A. 

Aye,  it  were  not  well, 

If  the  young  flower  that  wooes  the  south- 
wind's  kiss 

And  ripens  'neath  the  sun,  would  show 
ill  humor 

When  the  same  elements  that  gave  it 
bloom 

Cause  it  to  droop.  Whatever  thou  hast 
granted, 

Kind  brother,  though  a  favor  limited, 

Is  yet  surpassing  all  I  e'er  dared  hope. 

Accept  Abassa's  thanks! 


AL  RASCHID. 

(To   the   three   slave-p^irls   who    have    entered 
with  him.) 

Proceed,  fair  maidens, 
To  crown  our  queen  on  love's  enthrill- 
ing  throne! 


15 


Adorn  with  flowers  her  brow,  her  neck 
with  pearls, 

And  o'er  her  lovely  eyes  place  with  de- 
votion 

The  virgin-veil,  her  vow's  unchanging 
symbol! 

FIRST  SLAVE. 

(Placing  a  wreath  of  roses  on  Abassa's  fore- 
head.) 
Many  a  sweet  flower, 
Cursed  in  the  earth, 
By  the  rays  of  the  sunshine 
Is  kissed  into  birth. 
Yet  it  leaves  soil  and  sunlight, 
To  circle  thy  brow. 
For  the  sweetest  of  flowers. 
Fair  maiden,  art  thou ! 

SECOND  SLAVE 

(Placing  the  necklace.) 
Many  a  rich  pearl 
Lies  deep  in  the  sea 
And  delights  in  eternal 
Tranquility. 

Yet  it  leaves  its  fond  dreams 
On  the  ocean's  breast. 
For  it  longs,  queen  of  pearls, 
Xear  thy  bosom  to  rest. 


16 


THIRD  SLAVE, 

(Covering  Abassa's  face  with  a  veil.) 
Many  a  rare  jewel 
Is  hid  in  the  mine, 
That  it  may  in  the  darkness 
The  brighter  shine. 
But  the  veil  that  will  cover 
Thy  beautiful  eyes, 
Conceals  of  all  jewels 
The  loveliest  prize ! 

AL  BASCHID, 

And  ye,  fair  creatures  of  these  festive 
halls. 

Dance,  sing  and  pass  the  time  in  merri- 
ment. 

While  I  proceed  to  ask  our  good  Giaf  ar 

To  enter  here.     Let  rapture  fill  the  air, 

When  the   divinest  mind  unites  with 
Bagdad's 

Divinest  form ;  here  E'ature  reached  her 
goal. 

(Exit  Al  Raschid.) 

(The  women  form  a  group  and  dance  to  the 
accompaniments  of  stringed  instruments.) 

ABASSA, 
Sing  me  another  song,  thou  dear  Has- 

fana. 
My  soul  is  greatly  moved  and  naught 

save  music 
Can  calm  the  storm. 


17 


HASFANA. 
I'll  sing  a  riddle ;   liston  ! 

(Sings) 

A  light  shone  brightly  through  the  night 
A  wandering  moth  in  lonely  flight 
For  warmth  and  refuge   yearned; 
And,  when  it  saw  the  dazzling  flame, 
Too  near  the  deadly  fire  it  came — 
The  hapless  wings  were  burned. 

ABASSA. 
Ka!     I  divine  thy  meaning. 

HASFANA. 
Ah,  I  tremble 

For  promises  that  are  at  war  with  'Nsi- 
ture. 

ZULEIKA. 

(Aside.) 

At  last  the  fates  have  shown  a  way  to 

me; 
I'll  be  revenged  for  my  captivity! 

ABASSA. 
My  heart  is  thrilling  with  a  thousand 

raptures 
To  meet  Giafar.     Know'st  thou  him, 

Ilasf  ana  ? 

HASFANA. 
Only  his  songs,  which,  like  the  dew  of 

heaven 
Drop  on  the  fairest  blossoms  of  the  soul. 


18 


,Q^[^^^^^^< 


ABASSA. 
His  wisdom  has  no  equal,  even  Haroiin 
Bows  to  its  mandates  and  the  mighty 

empire 
Awaits  his  judgment  in  the  crucial  hour. 
Hast  ever  seen  him  ^    Is  he  young  and 

handsome  ? 


HASFANA. 
Much  older  he  than  thou;    sooie  silver 

threads, 
like  winter's  heralds,  'neath  his  lieavy 

locks 
Eeveal  at  times  that  summer  is  past 

passing. 

ABASSA. 

Still  he  is  tall  and  handsome? 

HASFANA. 

'Not  like  Omar ; 

In  whose  impassioned  eye  are  subtly 
mingled 

The  daring  soldier  and  the  languid 
lover, 

A  mid-day  sun.  But  ev'ning's  restful 
twilight, 

The  noble  harmony  of  thought  and  sad- 
ness. 

Adorn  Giafar's  brow. 


19 


ABASSA, 

Husli,  here  he  comes. 

(Enter  Al  Raschid  and  Giafar.) 

AL  RASCHID. 
I  give  to  thee,  loved  minister  and  friend, 
The  sweetest  flower,  fresh  from  Nature's 

bosom. 
My  ovm  Abassa. 

GIAFAB, 

Oh,  most  gracious  Khalif, 

Too  deep  for  thought  thy  kindness ! 

AL  RASCHID. 

Yet  thy  merit 
Excels  it. 

ABASSA. 

(Aside.) 

Throbs  and  thrills  overwhelm  me. 

(Loud.) 
My  love  to  thee,  Giafar ;  and  to  thee. 
Most  noble  brother,  lasting  gratitude! 

AL  RASCHID. 

This  bond,  like  Sirius  and  Aldebaran 
Sliines  in  our  heav'n,   a  constellation 

fair. 
Oh,  may  it  never  fade !    The  Christians 

fancy,^ 
The  deity  is  triune  and,  though  mystic 


2Q 


The  thought,  yet  do  I  clearly  now  per- 
ceive 

That  as  in  man,  who  but  reflects  his 
Maker, 

The  body,  mind  and  soul  are  linked  in 
one. 

So  harmony  is  triune.    Thou,  Abassa, 

The  form  most  perfect,  while  Giafar's 
mind 

Is  wedded  to  it ;  and  the  soul  myself 

Who  thus  completes  the  circle. 

ABA8SA. 
Sacred  Union, 
Which  Allah  may  protect ! 

GIAFAB. 

And  guide  the  feeble  steps 

Which  Haroun's  will  leads  on  to  'Na,- 

ture's  brink 
And  calls  a  sudden  halt ;  'twixt  soul  and 

sense. 
Contending  billows,  may  our  ship  be 

firm. 
True  to  its  chart! 

AL  BASCHID. 

Thou  dost  not  doubt,  Giaf  ar. 
That  thou  wilt  keep  the  oath? 

GIAFAB. 

I  pledged  my  life! 


21 


ALBASCHID, 

I  hav^e  thy  word,  Abassa  ? 

ABAS8A. 
Aye,  my  honor! 

AL  RASCHID, 
Raise  then  the  veil,  Hasfana,  that  love's 

ray 
May  fall  undimmed  upon  Giafar's  way ! 

HASFANA. 
The  flowers  seek  the  sunshine, 
The  rivers  the  sea, 
The  birds  hasten  southward. 
The  heart  moves  to  thee. 
A  palm  in  the  desert, 
A  star  on  night's  brow, 
A  dream  in  the  darkness, 
Beloved,  art  thou! 
The  night-clouds  that  vanish 
Make  way  for  the  dawn — 

(Lifting  the  veil.) 

The  sun  is  arising. 
The  veil  is  withdrawn. 

GIAFAB, 

Oh  wondrous  vision!     Here's  a  world 
undreamed  of! 


22 


AL  BASCHID, 

Thine  to  admire,  yet  never  to  possess; 

At    fair   Abassa^s    side   be   hence    thv 

«> 

throne, 
Keep  it  unstained  'gainst  others  and — 

thyself! 
And  now  in  discourse,  undisturbed,  but 

brief. 
Give  wing  to  love,  while  on  the  sunset's 

gold 
My  soul  will  rise  to  Allah,  and  to  Him 
Commend  your  purpose. 

(Stepping  toward  the  balcony  in  the  rear  of 
the  apartment,  where  he  remains  standing 
with  folded  arms,  his  eyes  toward  the 
city.) 

ABASSA. 

Art  thou  truly  mine? 

GIAFAB. 
More  than  I  reckoned.     Many  a  lovely 

maiden 
IVe  met,  yet  none  like  thee.     In  poems 

only 
Ideals,  such  as  thou,  have  their  abode. 

ABASSA. 

And  thou,  the  great  Giafar,  to  whose 

will 
The  world  bows  in  submission — 


23 


GIAFAB, 
Captive,  aye, 
AYithin  tlij  arms! 

ABAS8A. 
Would  thou  wert  wholly  mine ! 
My  heart — a  snow-flushed  rivulet,  o'er- 

flomng 
Its  narrow  bed — expands  into  a  sea 
Of  boundless  bliss. 

GIAFAR. 
Oh,  beautiful  Abassa ! 
I  who  amid  a  life,  with  laurels  laden, 
Have  longed  for  sounds  beyond  sweet 

music's  plea. 
For  stars  that  fade  not  and  for  fragrant 

flowers. 
Untouched  by  autumn;    in  thy  lovely 

presence 
Do  grasp  the  depth  unfathomed  of  the 

soul 
For  bliss  eterne.     'Tis  nature's  tender 

promise 
Of  worlds  to  come. 

ABA8SA, 
Oh,  could  I  linger  ever 
Close  by  thy  side ! 


24 


GIAFAB. 

Alas,  my  hasty  pledge 

Receives  a  troubled  message  from  the 

heart ; 
Would  we  had  never  met ! 

ABASSA, 
How's  this,  Giaf  ar  ?  ^ 

GIAFAB. 

Think  of  our  vows ! 

ABASSA. 
Alas! 

AL  RA8CHID. 

(Coming  toward  them.) 
^Tis  time  to  part. 
The  twilight  waits   impatient  for  the 

night 
And  wooes  the  evening-star.     It  gives 

me  grief 
To  mar  your  pleasures,  but  I  must  be 

firm. 

(Draws   his   scimitar.) 

Thus  resting  side  by  side  two  envied 

mortals 
Do  symbolize  to  me  the  truth  divine 
That  on  her  throne,  unshaken  by  the 

senses 
The  soul  can  reign  supreme.    And  here, 

between  you 


25 


I  place  this  sword,  the  emblem  of  my 

will. 
The  line  is  sharply  drawn  and  by  this 

weapon 
I  swear  that  whosoever  dares  to  shift  it, 
Is  doomed  to  die ! 


GIAFAR, 

Thou  hast  Giafar's  oath; 
Whene'er  my  purpose  falters,  I'm  pre- 
pared 
For  AzrieFs  realm. 

(Taking    Abassa's    hand    and    kissing    it    rev- 
erently.) 

This  little  hand  shall  guide  me ! 

ABASSA. 

To  light  and  love !       Sing  us     a   song, 

Ilasfana. 
Thy  voice,  like  the  melodious  bird  of 

Ajjem, 
Gives  balsam  to  the  soul  and  calls  us 

gently 
To  dreamland's  shore,  where  memory 

and  hope. 
Two  changeless    stars,    illuminate  the 

night. 


HASFANA, 

(Singing.) 
The  stars  with  thousand  golden  eyes 
Keep  silent  watch  o'er  thee; 
A  gentle  night-wind  softly  sighs 
Its  languid  melody. 

The  flowers  exhale  their  amorous  balm; 
The  birds  dream  in  their  nest; 
The  trees  are  still  and  moonlight  calm 
Enfolds  the  earth  in  rest. 

My  heart  alone  doth  wildly  move 

Mid  silence,  wide  and  deep, 

It  seeks  its  rest,  where  thou,  sweet  Love, 

\^niere  thou,  sweet  Lov^e,  dost  sleep. 

ALBASCHID, 

Farewell,  Abassa ! 

ABASSA. 

Brother,  fare  thee  wellt 

And  thou,  Giafar,  who  like  lightning 

brightened 
My  sad  horizon,  passest  all  too  soon 
Into  the  clouds,  but  in  the  aftershine 
Of  memory  remainest  ever  mine. 

GIAFAB. 

Farewell!     And  by  those  love-lit  eyes 

I'll  measure 
Henceforth  the  rise  and  fall  of  pain  and 

pleasure ! 

(Sinking   on    his    knee,   and    kissing   Abassa's 
hand,    remains    motionless.) 


27 


AL  BASCHID. 

(Impatiently.) 
Enough ! 

(As  Al  Raschid  and  Giafar  reach  the  doorway, 
Giafar  casts  a  parting  look  upon  Abassa 
and  disappears  slowly.) 

ZULEIKA, 
Tell  me,  Abassa  ? 

ABASSA, 
What  would' st  know,  Zuleika  ? 

ZULEIKA. 
If  ripened  fruit  hangs  o'er  a  starving 

What  is  his  impulse  ? 

ABASSA, 
Why,  he'll  eat,  Zuleika. 

ZULEIKA. 

If  thou  put'st  parched  lips  to  a  cooling 

stream, 
What  wiU  they  do  ? 

ABASSA, 
They  probably  will  drink. 

ZULEIKA, 
If  pitch  and  flame  are  thrown  into  the 

straw. 
What  dost  expect? 


28 


ABASSA. 
I  think  there'd  be  a  fire. 

ZULEIKA. 

If  two  young  bodies  on  a  silk-soft  couch 
Can  coo  and  woo,  what  thinkest  thou, 
Abassa  ? 

ABAS8A. 
On  this,  Zuleika,  I  have  never  thought. 

ZULEIKA. 
Aye,  do  not  think,  for: 
Thinking  would  be  doing, 
And  doing  would  be  lying. 
And  lying  would  be  dying — 
Thus  ends  the  sorrv  wooing! 
Ha!    Ha! 

ABA88A. 
For  shame !   Out  of  my  sight ;  Zuleika ! 

ZULEIKA, 

Ah,  proud  Abassa,  think'st  thou  thus  to 
humble 

The  priestess  of  the  fates !    I  must  obey ; 

But  all  thy  haughty  dreams  are  doomed 
to  crumble 

Thy  ill-starred  pledges  destined  to  de- 
cay; 

I've  been  thy  slave,  thy  pastime  and  thy 
nurse ; 

Beware !    Zuleika  may  yet  be  thy  curse ! 


29 


ABA8SA, 
Ha!     Dost  defy  me?     I,  the  Kbalifs 

sister, 

Will  tolerate  no  scorn ;   slaves,  lead  her 
hence. 

ZULEIKA. 

(To  the  slaves.) 
Back,  cowards,  or  I'll  scorch  your  sex- 
less shanks ! 

(The  eunuchs  stand  horrified.  Zuleika  moves 
slowly  toward  the  exit;  she  raises  a  cur- 
tain with  one  hand  and  remains  standing, 
her  eyes  on  Abassa.) 

Thou  art  Abassa;    I  the  devil's  bride; 
Henceforth  to  humble  thee,  shall  be  my 

pride ! 
Dare  to  oppose  me ! 

(All  stand  spell-bound.) 
END  OF  FIRST  ACT. 


30 


Act  II. 


SCENE — Sarazen  army  camping.  It  is  dawn. 
Omar's  tent  in  the  center.  Two  guards  in  the 
foreground.     Enter  Abu  Nuwas. 

FIB8T  GUARD. 

Stand  and  make  known  thyself,  ere  thou 
go'st  on. 

ABU  NUWAS. 
I   am  the  laureled   bard  of  Haroun's 
court. 

SECOND  GUARD. 
Then  thou  art  also  barred  from  Omar's 
camp. 

FIRST  GUARD. 
Give  us  the  password. 

ABU  NUWAS. 

(Raising  his  lyre.) 

Tut !    The  lyre  admits  me. 

FIRST  GUARD. 
I  am  no  liar,  nor  willing  to  admit  thee. 

ABU  NUWAS. 
Hush,  friends!      Here  comes  a  lady. 
Better  guard 


31 


Against   a   tapering  limb   and   love-lit 

eyes, 
Than  draw  your  swords  upon  a  harmless 

poet, 
Who  battles  but  in  words. 

(Enter  Khaled  and  Obeidah;    two  black  slaves 
carry   a   litter.) 

OBEIDAH, 
Put  down  the  litter ! 

(Seeing  Nuwas.) 
How's  this,  friend  Nuwas,  why  art  not 
in  Bagdad  ? 

ABU  NUWAS. 
I  skim  the  universe  and  fly  at  random 
Upon  my  Pegasus  from  hell  to  heaven — 
The  two  antipodes  of  pompous  nothing ! 

KHALED. 
Dost  mean  to  say  that  heav'n  is  made  of 
naught  ? 

ABU  NUWAS. 
Or  its  equivalent ;  thy  pious  dreams. 

OBEIDAH. 

Thou'lt  soon  find  out  that  hell's  of  dif- 
ferent  stuff. 

ABU  NUWAS. 
When  thou  get'st  there,  there  will  be  real 
devils. 


32 


K  HALED. 
Tis  time  thou  mak'st  a  pilgrimage  to 
Mecca. 

ABU  NUWAS. 
Would  I'd  been  born  a  dog  instead  of 

man! 
I  should  have  hidden  on  the  sacred  steps 
And  bit  the  solemn  calves  of  kneeling 

pilgrims — 
A  canine  pastime  which  no  gods  resent. 

OBEIDAH. 

Enough  of  this ! 

(To  the  guards.) 

Where  is  Prince  Omar's  tent? 
FIB8T  GUABD. 

(Pointing  to  the  tent.) 

'Tis  this  one;    but  the  chief  is  resting 
still. 

ABU  NUWAS, 

(Approaching   the   litter.) 

What  soft-eyed  beauty  hid'st  thou  in 
this  litter  ? 

KEALED, 

Keep  hands  oif,  I^^uwas!     This  is  not 
for  thee. 


ABU  NUWA8. 

Thou    art    a    statesman,    Khaled,    but 

kuow^st  little 
Of  poets'  rights. 


KHALED.  ^ 

Assert  thy  rights  then,  ISTuwas! 

If  thou  can'st  conquer  this  our  hidden 

beauty 
By  song  or  eulogy,  she  shall  be  thine. 

ABU  NUWA8. 

So  fair  a  prize  is  worth  a  song;    I'll 
try  it 

(Sings.) 

The  poet  is  the  king  of  kings, 
He  rules  the  world  alone; 
Where'er  he  roams  on  fancy's  wings, 
He  builds  himself  a  throne. 

Tlie  stars  serve  as  his  coronet, 
His  scepter  is  the  lyre, 
And  for  a  pastime  he  can  set 
A  million  hearts  afire. 

But,  Love,  I'd  give  this  realm  of  bliss 
To  thy  all-ruling  grace, 
If  thou  would'st  grant  me  but  one  kiss. 
Or  one  sweet  night's  embrace. 


OBEIDAH, 

Thou  coo'st  in  vain. 


34 


ABU  NUWA8. 

Oh  sweet  divinity, 

Thy  beauty's  heavenly  light  disclose  to 
me! 

(The    curtain    is    withdrawn;     Zuleika's    face 
becomes  visible.) 

ZULEIKA, 

Whose  untamed  tongue  is  wagging? 

ABU  NUWAS. 
Oh  ye  gods ! 

IVe  asked  the  devil  for  one  night^s  em- 
brace. 
For   friendship's    sake,    Obeidah,    take 
mv  place. 

(Exit.) 

ZULEIKA. 

(Leaving  the  Litter.) 
Dismiss  these  witnesses ! 

OBEIDAH. 

(To  the  »uards  and  slaves.) 

Watch  at  some  distance: 
Remove  the  litter  hence ! 

(Exeunt  guards  and  slaves.) 

ZULEIKA. 

(Holding  out  her  hand  to  Obeidah.) 
First  tlie  reward. 


35 


OBEIDAH. 

(Giving  her  a  bag  of  gold.) 
When  all  is  done,  I'll  pay  thee  thrice  I 
promised. 

ZULEIKA. 
Zuleika  never  fails ;  you  dig  the  pit 
And  I  will  close  the  tomb  upon  the  vic- 
tims; 
I'll  hide  beyond  yon  palm,  where  I  can 

watch 
The  origin  and  progress  of  the  plot — 
Fate  ever  finds  Zuleika  on  the  spot. 
(Steps  behind  the  palm  and  crouches  down.) 

KHALED. 
This  is  the  den,  where  the  young  lion 

sleeps ; 
Ere  morning  he  will  roar. 

OBEIDAH. 

His  angry  paw 

AVill   find  the   prey  well   fed.      These 
Barmecides 

Usurp  each  place  of  power  in  the  em- 
pire. 

Yahia  first,  and  then  this  sprout  Giaf  ar ; 

Aye,  Fadhel  will  be  next.    The  Persian 
witchcraft 

Unbrains  the   Sultan, 
words ; 

Let's  act. 


I  am  tired  of 


36 


KHALED, 

Quite  true.     The  camel  cliews  the  cud, 

But  man  should  act  upon  one  good  di- 
gestion. 

OBEIDAH. 

The  trick  is  simple;    watch  the  word 
^^Abassa'' 

Encrims'ning  Omar's  cheek ;  then  name 
Giafar 

And  place  the  two  upon  a  soft-downed 
couch — 

Ha !   Ha !    'Tis  quite  enough ! 

KHALED, 

Thou  claim'st  the  melon 

And  mak'st  me  feed  on  peels ;  would'st 

be   Vizier; 
'Tis  likely  thou'lt  succeed.    But  where's 

the  profit 
For  me  of  this  most  dubious  adventure  ? 

OBEIDAH. 

The  onion  first  and  afterwards  the  date ! 
Trust  thou  to  me. 

KHALED. 

Is  there  some  cause  to  fear, 

That  Omar,  learning  that  the  Khalif 

managed 
The  whole  affair  without  Giaf ar's  wish, 
Might  prove  forgiving? 


37 


OBEIDAH, 
Omar  likes  Giafar, 
But  loves  Abassa;    note  the  difference. 

KHALED, 

And  if  he's  told  that    thds    portentous 

marriage 
Is  merely  of  the  mind  ? 

OBEIDAH. 
He'll  ne'er  believe  it ! 
Think'st  thou  that  man,  three-quarters 

animal, 
Can  please  his  palate  w^ith  a  pale-faced 

promise 
Near  Bagdad's  ripened  fruit?     Thou 

art  a  wit! 

KHALED. 
Yet  Haroun  thinks  it. 

OBEIDAH. 
'Tis  because  Giafar 
Has  singed  his  sense  with  laagic  flames 

of  Balkh. 
For  years  the  Barmecides  controlled  as 

priests 
The  ancient  Bactria.     This  witchcraft, 

Khaled 
Sustains  their  treachery.     Oh^  how  I 

hate  them ! 


KHALED. 
We're  trifling  with  these  flames ! 

OBEIDAH. 
Have  courage,  Khaled ! 
Place  ostrich-like  the  eggs  into  the  sand ; 
The  sun  will  hatch  them.     Omar  must 

be  told 
That  the  event  is  still  kept  in  suspense ; 
This   will   arouse   the   demons;     for   a 

fact, 
Though  bitter,  weighs  much  lighter  on 

the  mind 
Than  happ'nings  still  within  the  reach 

of  action. 

OMAR. 

(Stepping  out  of  his  tent) 

Who   jars   the   balmy   stillness   of   the 

night 
With  irksome  babble?     Speak!     What 

brings  vou  hither  ? 

OBEIDAH. 
Our  friendship. 

KHALED. 

And  a  weighty  mission ! 

OMAR. 
Ah! 

Old  friends,  indeed !     Pray  how  is  life 
in  Bagdad  ? 


39 


In    these     love-longing     nights,    when 

moonlight  showers 
Its  tender  rajs  upon  the  sleeping  plains, 
Mv  sonl  takes  wing  and  soars  o'er  time 

and  space 
Back  to  its  lofty  domes  and  mirarets. 
Fond  recollections! 

KHALED. 
Wilt  thou  soon  return  ? 

OMAB, 

iSTot  till  I  come  as  victor.     I^icopherus, 
The  Roman  rebel,  twice  has  been  de- 
feated. 
But  rallying  his  forces,  on  the  morrow 
Will  make  a  final  stand.     Then  with 

the  laurels 
Of  conquest  on  my  brow  I'll  come  tri- 
umphant 
To  meet  the  Khalif . 

OBEIDAH. 

And  thy  fair  Abassa. 


OMAR. 

Speak  not  of  her;    too  rapturous  the 
thought ! 

KHALED. 
Thou  would'st  do  well  to  hurry. 


40 


OMAR. 
Why  thy  urging? 

OBEIDAH. 

The  Sim  gone  down,  the  moon  soon  takes 
his  place. 

OMAB. 

You  make  me  curious;  speak  no  more 
in  riddles. 

OBEIDAH, 

Our  lips  would  fain  conceal  the  sorry 
secret. 

OMAR, 
This  grim  suspense  is  torture ;   give  me 
facts. 

KHALED, 
A  friend  betrayed  thee. 

OMAR, 

Ha !    A  friend,  a  traitor  ? 

The  paradox  is  striking,  yet  unmeaning. 

I  have  but  one  friend,  Khaled,  many 
others 

Whose  presence  I  may  cherish  and 
whose  favors 

I  know  to  value.    But  they  gently  pass 

From  off  the  narrow  stage  of  my  exist- 
ence. 


41 


And  leave  no  mark  behind.     But  this 

my  friend, 
The    only   friend    I   ku:»w    in    all    the 

world 
Could  no  more  be  a  traitor  than  the  sun, 
Abandoning  his  luster,  turn  to  ashes. 
Fear  not,  then,  Khaled,  to  make  known 

the  snake 
Which  strikes  me  unawares^  and  I  will 

crush  it. 

OBEIDAH. 

Hast  spoken  like  a  man.     ^ame  then 

thy  friend 
And  I  will  name  thy  traitor. 

OMAR. 

Daring  challenge ! 

I  have  no  friend  besides — 


Giafar ! 
Ha! 


OBEIDAH. 
OMAR. 


KHALED. 

Prepare  to  hear  the  worst.     He  is  the 

traitor. 

OMAR. 
May   Allah   burn   thy   tongue!      Thou 

liest. 


42 


KHALED. 

(Laying  his  hand  on  the  hilt   of  his   sword.) 

Beware ! 

OBEIDAH. 
Peace,  friends!     Reserve  your  swords 

for  better  purpose. 
The  truth   should  not   offend.      While 

thou  in  battle 
Fought'st  for  the  crescent's  glory,  this 

Giafar, 
Lured   by   Al   Raschid's   favor,   boldly 

asked 
Abassa's  hand. 

OMAR. 

(Drawing  his  scimitar.) 

Obeidah,  see  this  blade ; 

Thou  i?:now'st  it  well,  for  many  a  time 
we  fought 

In  battle  side  by  side.  Would  thou 
had'st  thrust  it 

Into  this  heart,  ere  thou  had'st  thus  used 
strangely 

Giaf  ar's  name !  l^ow  mark  me ;  if  thou 
liest 

This  self-same  blade  will  pierce  thy  in- 
most soul 

And  cut  thy  body  into  thousand  atoms 

And  smite  the  very  ground  to  dust  in- 
visible 

Where  thou  hast  bled. 


43 


OBEIDAH, 

Waste  not  tliy  strength  on  words; 
I'll  furnish  proof. 

OMAR. 
Then  hurry.     For  my  heart 
Craves  sudden  truth.     Giafar!     Who'd 
believe  it  ? 

KEALED, 
Hide  not  thy  noble  brow  in  agony, 
Deaf  to  our  words.     The  time  is  short 

and  precious; 
Prompt  action  is  required,  if  thou  wilt 

yet 
Ketard   Giafar's   plans.       The   Khalif 

lingers 
In  doubt  between  his  friendship   and 

the  pride 
Which,   as   an   Abasside,   he   owes   his 

sister. 
Come  thou  to  Bagdad,  for  thyself  alone 
Can  change  the  treacherous  current— 

OMAR. 
May  it  drag 
Me  downward  to  a  lightless  destiny ! 

(Rising.) 

See  ye  the  Eastern  Star  in  the  horizon  ? 
It  issues  in  the  bloody  day  of  battle; 
Today  I'll  spur  my  Arab  o'er  the  corpses 


44 


Of   thousands    and    my   scimitar    will 

carve 
Its  grim  designs  upon  my  pallid  foes — 
Tomorrow  ope  the  gates  of  Bagdad  wide 
For  Omar  comes  triumphant    and    as 

victor 
Demands  the  prize !     'Tis  death  or  fair 


And  now,  farewell ;   the  sadness  of  this 

hour 
O'erwhelms  my  heart!     Forgive  scant 

courtesy — 
My  soul  seeks  solace  in  its  solitude! 

(Re-enters    tent.) 

OBEIDAH. 

The    scheme    is   excellent;      that    wild 

young  lion, 
With  passion  roused,  will  tear  Giafar's 

heart 
To  thousand  shreds,  when  he  will  learn, 

'tis  done. 

KHALED, 

Yet  thou  wert  wise  to  keep  the  whole 
truth  from  him. 

His  all  too  generous  heart  might  hesi- 
tate 

To  sacrifice  the  friends  whom  thus  he 
loves 

E'en  to  Ahassa. 


45 


OBEIDAE, 

Khaled,  think  it  not. 
Blood  is  peculiar  stuff;    it  nurses  rea- 
son 
And  strangles  it  as  well.     Men  are  but 

animals 
Where  woman  is  concerned.     A  pretty 

skin 
Turns  friends  to  deadly  rivals.     Omar 

raised 
The  veil  of  Bagdad's  beauty ;   saw  those 

eyes 
Black  as  the  night  and  deeper  than  the 

sea 
Those   eyes  which,   flaming,   could   set 

worlds  afire 
With   violent   passion,    till    a   heap   of 

ashes 
Would  substitute  this  globe.     I  say  he's 

doomed. 

KHALED, 


'Tis  strange  he  uttered  not  a  single  word 
About  Giaf  ar,  save  that  he  did  love  him. 


OBEIDAH. 

Oh,  scent  no  nightmares !  He's  the  per- 
fect "  tool 

To  do  us  service,  w^iile,  the  storm 
blown  over, 


46 


We  court  the  calm  and  bargain  for  the 
spoils. 

(Exeunt.) 

OMAR. 

(Leaving  the  tent  and  seating  himself  under  a 
palm  tree  in  the  foreground.) 

I  am  alone — and  yet  I'm  not  alone. 
Despair,  which  shadow-like  e'er  dogs  my 

footsteps, 
Has  now  a  cloven  tongue,  proclaiming 

grimly, 
A  twofold  curse ;    Abassa  and  Giaf ar ! 

She  who  amid  the  din  of  battle  lured 

me 
To   rise   or   ruin   and   whose   conquest 

only 
Sustained  my  struggling  self — she's  lost 

to  me! 

And  he,  the  friend  whose  handgrasp 
meant  new  life, 

Who  ruled  my  thought,  my  will,  my  in- 
most self. 

Takes  smiling  now  the  pearl  for  whose 
possession 

I've  fathomed  oceans  and  defied  the 
stars ! 


47 


Yet  is  thy  grief  with  reason  wedded, 

Omar? 
There  is  no  breach  of  promise,  save  the 

crumbling 
Of  pleasant  dreams,  born  of  thine  own 

conceit. 
And  still  HE  knew,  SHE  knew  that 

their  embrace 
Would  crush  this  heart  between  them 

— Oh,  my  passion ! 

(Enter.) 

A  MESSENGER. 

The  Khalif  sends  to  Omar  Allah's 
blessing ! 

OMAR. 

What  is  thy  mission? 

MESSENGER. 

Emp'ror  Nicopherus 

Has  sued  for  peace.  The  fury  of  thy 
sword 

Has  filled  with  terror  the  retreatino; 
army. 

And  ere  thy  scimitar,  once  more  un- 
sheathed, 

Will  deal  a  deathblow  to  thy  bleeding 
foe. 

He  seeks  submission's  chance. 


48 


OMAR. 
And  was  it  granted? 

MESSENGER, 

The  Khalif  argued  with  his  counsellors 

And  counting  on  thy  bravery,  con- 
tended 

That  IS^icopherus  should  be  wholly 
crushed. 

But,  listening  to  Giafar,  who  for  peace 

Plead  long  and  earnestly,  he  chose  to 
grant 

The  enemy's  prayer.  Thou  hast  been 
ordered 

To  Bagdad  to  accept  the  Khalifas  favors. 

OMAR. 

Assure  the  Khalif  of  my  loyalty. 
His  word  my  law ! 

(Exit  Messenger.) 

OMAR. 

(Alone.) 
Alas!     My  dream  of  fame 
Thus   crumbles   into   naught; 

return 
Ere  yet  the  wreath  is  won. 

ZULEIKA, 

(Stepping  forward.) 
But  just  in  time 

To  keep  the  ripened  fruit  from  burst- 
ing. 


49 


OMAR. 


Thou  art  the  voice  of  fate  that  breaks 

like  thunder 
Upon  the  sultry  stillness  of  my  thought. 

ZULEIKA. 
I  will  make  known  the  pathway  of  the 

stars, 
If  thou  wilt  listen. 

OMAR. 
To  thy  words,  Zuleika, 
Inspired   by  magic   lore,   I   bow   with 
reverence. 

ZULEIKA. 

Abassa  shall  be  thine,  the  fates  have 

willed  it ! 

OMAR. 
Oh  messenger  of  bliss !    Guide  thou  my 

footsteps ! 

ZULEIKA. 

But  ere  thou  boldest  her  lovely  form 

embraced. 
Thou  must  fulfill  the  will  of  destiny 
By  one  brave  act. 

OMAR. 
Whate'er  it  be,  Zuleika, 
It  shall  be  done. 


50 


ZULEIKA, 

Exterminate  the  snake 

Which,  in  thy  absence,  poisoned  Har- 

oun's  heart 
Against  thy  rightful  claims.     Kill  thou 

Giafar. 

OMAR. 
It  cannot  be. 

ZULEIKA. 
If  thou  resistest  fate, 
The  hand  suspended  will  with  double 

force 
Fall  on  thine  own  head;    Allah  is  not 

mocked ! 

OMAR. 
What  proof  hast  thou  to  justify  this 

act? 

ZULEIKA. 
Vainglorious  mortal,  can'st  thou  fathom 

dreams  ? 
Can'st  read  the  mystic  fiber  of  the  hand, 
Can'st  find  a  meaning  in  the  book  of 

stars, 
Or  hear  the  noiseless  treading:  of  the 

fates  ? 
Bend  thou  thy  haughty  knee  to  Allah's 

mandate! 

OMAR. 
Prove  thou  to  me  Giafar's  treachery 
And  I  will  be  the  tool  of  destinv. 


51 


ZULEIKA. 

Zuleika^s  vision  far  transcends  all  rea 


son. 


As  heaven  o'ertowers  the  earth.  Yet  to 
thj  blindness 

I'll  condescend.  The  guileless  messen- 
ger 

Betrayed  the  secret  in  his  simple  speech  : 

Who  calls  thee  slyly  from  the  field  of 
glory  ? 

It  is  Oiafar  who  thus  quenched  thy 
star, 

Lest  his  might  fade  before  the  brighter 
light! 

OMAR. 

Ah !     I  begin  to  see ;   it  was  Giaf ar, 
This  loving  friend  of  mine,  who  want- 
ed peace. 
Lest  Omar's  laurels  might  yet  win  the 

prize, 
Abassa's  couch.    The  spider-web  is  rent 
And  all  the  anxious  insects  of  revenge 
Have  open  passage.    Be  on  guard,  Gia- 

far, 
While  thou  preparest  Omar's  Love  to 

wed. 
His  sword  is  flashing  o'er  thy  bridal  bed. 


END  OF  SECOND  ACT. 


Act  III. 


SCENE— A  hall  in  Giafar's  palace. 

YAHIA. 

I  greatly  fear  this  love  will  be  Ms  ruin. 

E'er  since  he  met  Abassa,  he  seems  al- 
tered 

In  thought  and  mien.  Unsteady  is  his 
eye, 

His  cheeks  are  hollow  and  with  falter- 
ing step 

He  goes  about  his  work. 

FADHEL. 

The  Khalif,  thinking 

That  this  effect  was  caused  by  weight 

of  duty, 
Relieved  him  of  the  office  of  Vizier 
And    giving    me    this    place,    reserved 

Giafar 
To  be  his  private  counsellor  and  friend. 

YAHIA. 

Ah,  'tis  not  work  that  blasts  his  brilliant 

brain. 
'Tis  love,  which,  like  a  storm,  has  raged 

most  furious 


63 


Through  the  soft  fabric  of  his  tender 

soul. 
Alas!     Cursed  be  the  day  when  ITar- 

oun's  favor 
Gave  birth  to  schemes  that  war  with 

^Nature's  law. 
To  love  and  not  to  love,  to  breathe  the 

fragrance 
Of  sweetest  flower,  yet  never  to  desire  it, 
To   see  the   ripened   fruit   and  not  to 

taste  it, 
To  hold  Abassa's  form  and  not  possess 

it— 

This  is  a  task  too  strenuous  for  the  gods ! 
(Enter  Giafar.) 

GIAFAR. 

My  noble  father  and  thou,  loyal  Fadhel, 
Be  welcome.    Much  I  crave  your  kindly 

presence 
More  now  than  ever!     For  my  former 

self 
Lies  buried  at  the  gates  of  the  Seraglio. 

FADHEL, 
Would   thou   had'st   never   passed   the 
fatal  threshold! 

GIAFAR. 

Oh,  Fadhel,  had  I  known  that  a  volcano 
Lies  slumbering  'neath  the  fragile  crust 
of  reason 


54 


Which,  bursting  forth  in  flames,  will 

turn  to  ashes 
The  crumbling  structures  of  our  higli 

resolves — 
If  I  had  known  this,   I  should  ne'er 

have  ventured 
On  dangerous  seas,  but  in  the  placid 

harbor 
Of  stainless  thought  remained  securely 

anchored. 

YAHIA. 

How  deeply  I  do  feel  thine  agony ! 

The  promises  of  life  are  still  before  thee, 

Giafar,  while  my  hair,  grown  gray  in 
service 

To  Haroun  and  the  State,  foretells  the 
evening. 

The  coming  sunset.    ^N'ot  for  me  I  fear. 

The  aged  palm  in  vain  longs  for  the 
spring. 

To  find  its  strength  renewed.  But  thou, 
Giafar, 

Upon  whose  mighty  thought  this  realm 
is  founded. 

And  whom  the  future  ever  beckons  on- 
ward 

To  greater  heights,  hast  chosen  Phae- 
ton-like 


55 


A  dangerous  plaything.    If  thy  purpose 

wavers 
No  power,  my  son,  can  check  the  hand 

of  fate. 

GIAFAB, 

Thy  words  I  hear,  oh.  Father,  but  while 

reason, 
A  willing  listener,  would  glad  consent, 
My  heart  points  like  a  needle  to  the 

magnet, 
To  her  alone! 

FADHEL 

Must,  then,  a  pretty  cheek, 

A  curl  of  hair,  a  soft-skinned  little 
hand 

Eoot  up  the  ancient  tree  of  Barmecides, 

That,  seasoned  with  the  royal  blood  of 
Persia, 

Sprang  from  the  soil  ere  yet  the  pro- 
phet rose 

Proclaiming  Allah's  will? 


YAHIA. 

The  Magian  priesthood. 

Which  in  the  sacred  Bactria  held  coun- 
cil 

With  the  Eternal  and  above  the  earth 

Rose  on  the  wing  of  prayer — their 
blood,  Giafar, 


56 


Flows    in    thy    veins.      Oh,    may    the 

thought  inspire  thee 
To  check  the  baser  self;    their  spirit 

guide  thee 
Upon  the  slippery  path  'twixt  soul  and 

sense 
To  final  triumph! 

OIAFAB. 

(Taking  Yahia's  hand.) 

Allah  bless  this  hand 

Which  led  me  safely  through  the  gold- 
en years 

Of  youth  and  childhood,  when  the 
thoughtless  heart 

Can  treasure  nothing  save  its  own  de- 
sires. 

I  grew  to  manhood  and  the  cares  of 
office. 

The  jealousies  of  men,  their  scorn  and 
envy. 

Infesting  ev'ry  hour;  the  loneliness 
which  islands 

Each  heart  upon  the  shoreless  sea  of 
chance — 

All  this  has  taught  me  how  to  value  love. 

And  of  such  love  the  purest,  most  un- 
selfish. 

The  parent's.     Father,  place  once  more 

This  hand,  now  trembling  not  with  age 
alone. 


57 


But  with  emotion,   on  Giafar's  brow 
Conferring  strength ! 

(Kneeling.) 

YAHIA. 

(Blessing  Giafar.) 

May  heaven  grant  thee  peace!. 

Whate'er  betide  thee,  hapless  son,  thy 
father 

Will  share  thy  downfall,  as  he  shared 
thy  glory. 

And  as  thy  life  has  ever  been  the  sun- 
shine 

Of  davs  agone,  so  when  the  shadows 
fall, 

A  star  on  midnight's  sky,  in  fadeless 
luster 

Will  shine  thy  father's  love.  Farewell, 
Oiafar! 

GIAFAR. 

(Arising.) 

Father,  fare  thee  well!     And  thou,  my 

Fadhel, 
Rest  in  assurance  that,  if  mortal  will 
Can  turn  the  tide  of  blood  in  reason's 

channel, 
It  shall  be  done! 


58 


FADHEL. 


I  judge  thee  not ;   I  warn  thee. 

Yet  from  my  heart  of  hearts  I  curse  the 

thought, 
Which,    severing    Nature's    self,    made 

thee  the  martyr 
In  the   unequal   struggle!      Fare   thee 

well! 

(Exeunt  Fadliel  and  Yahia.) 

GIAFAR, 

(Alone.) 

I  must  not  yield  to  it.  I  must  be  firm. 
I  gave  my  word ;  my  honor  is  at  stake. 
My  father's  life,    my    brother's,   aye, 

Abassa's, 
Will  be  made  subject  to  the  Khalif's 

wrath ; 
I  must  be  firm.     Base  demons  of  the 

blood 
Obey   Giafar's   will.      I,    ruler   of  the 

empire, 
Ruled  by  the  flesh  ?     If  I  could  but 

deny  it. 
But,  oh,  the  truth  undoes  my  boasting 

speech — 
Abassa ! 

(Sinks  upon  a  divan  and  buries  his  head  in 
his  hands.) 

(Rising.) 


Ha!     I've  found  the  clew;    I  will  not 
See  her   again;    will  shun  her  lovely 

presence ; 
Will  starve  imagination,  till  the  flame 
Will  die  for  want  of  fuel;    I  am  re- 
solved 
To  make  this  sacrifice.    I  must.    I  will. 
(Enter.) 

AL  BASCHID. 
May  Allah's  sunshine  scatter  o'er  thy 

path 
The  rays  of  peace ! 

GIAFAB, 

And  make  thy  love 
Unchangeable ! 

AL  BASCHID. 
Love  without  loyalty 
Can  profit  little. 

GIAFAB. 

Thou  hast  given  both 
In  amplest  measure  to  thy  lowly  ser- 
vant. 

AL  BASCHID. 
Xot  that  I  raised  thee  to  a  dizzy  height 
And  laid  our  mighty  empire  at  thy  feet, 
Proved  my  affection  as  did  my  resolve 
To  cast  aside  all  barriers  of  tradition 
And  lift  the  veil  for  thee  of  fair  Abassa. 


60 


GIAFAB. 

Kor  anything  this  mind  has  e'er  de- 
signed 

In  solving  weighty  questions  and  in 
guiding 

The  ship  of  state  proved  such  complete 
devotion 

As  did  my  oath  to  call  Abassa  mine 

Yet  ne'er  to  own  her. 

AL  BA8CHID. 

'Not  of  flesh  and  blood 

I  could  have  asked  thus  boldly  to  re- 
nounce 

Life's  sweetest  dreams.  But  thou,  di- 
vine Giafar, 

Whose  breath  is  thought,  whose  very 
soul  a  poem, 

Leav'st  in  the  spirit's  eagle-flight  be- 
hind 

The  common  clay. 

OIAFAR. 

A  eulogy  which  lauds 

The  hero,  yet  omits  the  man,  is  painful. 

AL  RASCHID. 
Thy    modesty    would    e'en    excel    thy 

merit. 
If  that  were  possible. 
Ere  I  depart 


61 


I   would   remind   thee   that   this   very 

night 
We  are  to  see  Abassa.    After  sunset 
Meet  at  my  palace  and  the  moonlight 

hours 
Will  pass  in  sweetest  concourse.     How 

I  love 
This  green  oasis  midst  the  desert's  dust, 
Where  I  recuperate  and  gather  strength 
For  life's  stern  duties.      Till  tonight, 

farewell ! 

(Exit.) 

GIAFAR. 

(Alone.) 

Fate  is  against  me,  vainly  I  rebel. 

I  would  not  see  Abassa,  yet  the  will 

Of  Haroun  reigns  supreme.  I  see  the 
cliffs 

Which  threaten  shipwreck  to  my  drift- 
ing bark 

And  in  this  crucial  hour  this  arm,  by 
Nature 

Unnerved,  lets  go  the  rudder.  Nay,  I 
will 

Defy  the  Sultan's  wish,  plead  illness, 
Fadhel, 

Thy  pride  inspires  me,  ere  the  Barme- 
cides 

Accept  defeat,  all  hell  must  come  to 
battle. 


62 


(Enter.) 

ABU  NUWAS. 
I  come  to  have  you  solve  for  me  a  prob- 
lem. 

GIAFAE. 
Pertaining  to  the  State? 

ABU  NUWAS. 
Aye,  to  the  man 
That  made  it,  to — the  great  Giafar. 

OIAFAB. 

Xo  longer  great. 

ABU  NUWAS. 

This  is  the  very  problem. 

Thy  lyre  which,  unexcelled  for  many 
years, 

Has    thrilled    the    hearts    of    men,    is 
strangely  mute ! 

Thy  eloquence,  a  memory!      And  the 
wisdom, 

Which  guided  Haroun  and  his  realm 
alike, 

o'To  longer  stirs  the  council  of  the  great. 

Why  is't  that  Bagdad's  favorite  never 
smiles  ? 

GIAFAR. 

All  this  is  natural.    Life's  empty  plaud- 
its 


Will  tempt  but  him  whose  brow  was 

never  wreathed ! 
And  as  regards  mj  songs,  they  ceased  to 

be 
When   dreams  came  true,   just   as  the 

mountain  stream 
Merged  in  the  sea,  no  longer  plays  with 

pebbles. 

ABU  NU  WAS. 
Thou  art  in  love — this  is  the  common 

talk! 
But  such  a  love!     Ye  gods!     A  whiiT 

of  ether ! 
An  evanescent  glance  and  then — fare- 
well! 
A  kiss   uDon   the   eyelash,   then — keep 

off!  ' 
A  shiver  thj'ough  the  spine,  and  then — 

beware ! 
A  glimpse  of  pretty  limbs  and  then — 

enough ! 
This  farce  of  Haroun  starts  a  roar  of 

laughter 
From  Allah's  throne  to  Satan's  boiling- 
pots  ; 
It  makes  the  merry  world  wheel  'round 

with  humor — 
And  thou,  the  hero  of  the  comedy, 
AVear'st  such  a  sorry  mien!     This  is 

too  much ! 

(Bursts  out  laughing.) 


64 


GIAFAR, 


1  know,  thee,  !N"iiwas,  and  thy  reckless 

mocking 

To  me  is  but  a  wave  that  laves  a  cliff. 
I  have  some  honor  and  Giafar's  pledge 
Must  ne'er  be  broken ! 


ABU  NUWAS. 

Words  disarm  me  not. 

What  are  such  promises  ?  Happiness 
comes  first! 

If  my  poor  arguments  cannot  convince 
thee, 

ni  quote  the  Koran;  be  thou  like  the 
prophet 

Who,  whensoe'er  a  new  skin  roused  his 
passion. 

Had  heaven  provide  for  him  a  special 
vision : 

Great  was  Mohamet — piety  and  plea- 
sure. 

Opposing  elements,  he  merged  in  one. 


GIAFAR. 

Tramp  thou  not  like  a  hog  on  beds  of 

flowers ; 
Thou  livest  for  thy  passing  whims,  but  I 
Still  aim  to  do  on  earth  the  will  of 

Allah ! 


65 


ABU  NUWAS. 


The  will  of  Allah  ?    What  a  crutch  for 

cant! 
Thou  art  not  blind,   Giafar,   like  the 

masses 
That  wet  with  contrite  tears  the  pro- 
phet's beard! 
The  mosque  contains  not  God,  nor  can 

the  Koran 
Set  boundaries  to  His  word.     He  is  the 

soul 
Of  every  throbbing  life ;  the  flower  that 

blushes 
Beneath    the    rising    sun    reflects    His 

Being 
As  much  as  does  the  star-eyed  dome  of 

heaven ! 
The    soul    of    Allah    quickens    every 

stream. 
And  moves  the  mother-bird  to  build  her 

nest ; 
It  vibrates  in  the  song  of  nightingales 
And  cools  us  in  the  balm  of  cypress 

groves. 
The   soul    of   Allah   wakes   tlie   poet's 

thoughts 
And   to   the   lover   whispers   words   of 

v/ooing, 
Until,  overcome,  he  holds  the  glorious 

form 


66 


In  his  embrace.    Believe  me,  oh  Giaf  ar, 
Such  fond  embrace  is  Allah's  will  as 

much 
As  penitential  prayers! 

GIAFAR. 

Thou  art  a  poet, 

And   I   dwelled   mid   the   Muses   long 

enough, 
To  know  how  to  discern  'twixt  words 

and  facts, 
AMiere  rhyme  and  rhythm  rule.     True 

to  thy  light 
Live  on!     But  do  not  cloud  my  star  of 

faith 
AA^ith  philosophic  mist. 

ABU  NUWAS. 
It  would  not  pain  thee. 
Were  not    the    voice    familiar  to  thy 
heart. 

GIAFAR. 
Thy  argument  is  echoed  in  my  soul. 
Yet  I  oppose  to  it  my  claim  to  man- 
hood. 
I  cannot  lie. 

ABU  NUWA8. 
Thou  liest  to  thyself. 
If  thou  art  true  to  Haroun;    if  to  him 
Thou  liest,  thou  art  true  to  Allah's  will. 


67 


Since   thou   must   lie,   Friend,   follow 

my  advice ; 
And  live  the  lie  that  has  in  it  some 


spice 


(Exit.) 


OIAFAR. 

(Alone.) 

Who  sent  this  tempter  here  ?    This  mix- 
ture strange 

Of  truth  and  error,  loftiness  and  lust? 

He  feels  for  me,  he  says,  and  I  have 
reason 

To  trust  his  word.     Ave,  I^uwas,  could 
I  fling 

Aside  each  scruple  of  my  inner  self, 

I  should  not  suffer  thus.     I'd  claim  the 
body 

Of  my  fair  spouse,  as  I  have  claimed 
her  soul ! 

But  to  thy  scof&ng  nature  I  will  prove. 

That  o'er  the  flesh,  held  captive,  rises 
Love! 

(Enter  Omar.) 

GIAFAR. 

Praised  be  the  Prophet!     Is  it  thou, 
my  Omar? 

( As  Omar  enters  Giaf ar  rushes  forward  to  greet 
him,  but  Omar  assumes  an  attitude  of 
haughty  reserve.) 


68 


OMAR, 

Xo  longer  thine;    high  mountains  have 

arisen 
'Twixt  thee  and  me,  since  last  we  met 

as  friends. 

GIAFAR. 

Thy  speech  is  dark ;  I  do  not  grasp  thy 
meaning. 

OMAR, 

Thou  art  a  diplomat  and  subtle  speeches 
Familiar  to  thy  lips;    but  I,  a  soldier, 
Prefer   the   simpler   way,   the   way  of 
truth. 

GIAFAR, 

When  shadows  fall  up(  a  a  sorrowing 
Ijeart 

It  craves  a  ray  of  love,  just  as  the  bird 

By  tempests  frightened,  seeks  the  shel- 
tering tree. 

I  never  dreamed  the  deadly  day  w^ould 
dawn 

When  thou  would'st  hesitate  to  grasp 
this  hand. 

OMAR. 
Xor  I.     Amid  the  shifting  race  of  men 
Thou  wast  to  me  the  rock  immovable 
Where  love  could  cast  its  anchor  and 
remain 


Secure  forever.    But,  the  fog  dissolved, 
Truth  finds  the  trap  where  fancy  saw 
the  drawbridge. 

GIAFAR, 

Speak'st  thou  of  treachery? 

OMAB. 

Thou  knew'st,  Giaf ar, 

That  I  did  love  Abassa.     Fatal  flames 

Blazed  from  her  eye  into  my  inmost 

soul. 
I  raised  her  veil  bv  force,  I  risked  niv 

life, 
And  since  that  day  have  oft  in  daring 

fight 
Sought  sweet  repose  in  death.    But  e'er 

victorious 
I  rose  from  bloodiest  strife.   The  Khalif 

honored 
My  reckless  courage  and  at  last  agreed 
That,  if  I  crushed  the  rebel  Mcopherus, 
He  would  accede  to  whatsoe'er  I  wished. 
I    now    return,     by     feverish    longini"; 

spurred. 
To  clasp  Abassa's  form  in  burning  arms, 
And  find  that  thou,  of  all  my  friends 

the  dearest. 
Hast  robbed  the  victor  of  his  well-earned 

spoils. 


70 


Would  I  had  never  loA^ed  thee,  glad  I^d 

plunge 
This     oft-tried     scimitar     into     thine 

heart — 
Oh,  such  revenge  were  sw^eet ! 

GIAFAR. 

Yet  of  the  evils 

That  trouble  man,  death,  friend,  is  not 

the  greatest. 
Thou  dost  me  wrong.      Abassa  is  my 

wife, 
Yet  she  is  not ;   the  Khalif 's  gift  to  me 
A  star  to  be  admired,  yet  not  a  form 
To   be   embraced.      I   speak   sincerely, 

Omar: 
Take  thou  this  gift,  its  raptures  or  its 

tortures ; 
I  want  it  not. 

OMAR. 

Oh,  let  deception  cease. 

There  is  no  living  man    in    earth    or 

heaven, 
Who,  near  Abassa,  could  command  the 

flood 
Of  passion.     Thou  its  subject  art,  Gia- 

far. 
As  well  as  I,  and  ill  becomes  the  role 
Of   abstinence   to   one   whose   amorous 

ditties 


71 


Have  filled  the  empire  with  voluptuous 

thought. 

GIAFAR. 
The  day  will  come  when  every  syllable 
Thus  lightly  uttered,  like  a  dart  of  fire 
Will  pierce  thy  memory.     By  all  the 

stars 
Which  shine  in  Allah's  heav'n,  I  give 

my  oath 
That  all  thy  charges,  based  on  love's 

delusion, 
Are  void  of  ev'ry  element  of  truth. 

OMAR. 
I  did  not  come  to  argue ;   not  in  words. 
In   deeds   I  have  excelled.      Farewell, 

Giafar, 
Thou  bid'st  me  trust  in  the  impossible. 
Here  is  my  hand,  I  will.    If  thou  prove 

false, 
My  sky  is  black ;  meanwhile  thou  find'st 

in  me 
An  open  friend  or  open  enemy. 

(Exit.) 

GIAFAR. 

(Alone.) 

This  seals  my  fate.     'Tis  now  for  me 

to  prove 
That    friendship's    true;     that    reason 

reigns  supreme. 


72 


E'en  in  the  blood's  domain.     I  thank 

thee,  Omar, 
With  calmer  eye  I'll  gaze  in  the  abyss ; 
Thou  judgest  me,  but  judgest  me  amiss. 
(Enter    Zuleika.) 

GIAFAR. 
What  brings  you  here,  Zuleika? 
What's  thy  mission? 

ZULEIKA. 
I  come,  a  messenger. 

GIAFAR. 

Sent  by  Abassa? 

ZULEIKA. 

Come  close  to  me 

(Whispers  in  his  ear.) 

GIAFAR. 

Tomorrow  night !    Ye  gods ! 

ZULEIKA. 
The   eunuchs  have  been  bribed;     the 

gates  are  open, 
A  boat  will  take  thee  to  the  eastern  side 
Of  the  Seraglio ;    a  slave  will  lead  thee 
Hence   to   the   chamber   where  Abassa 

sleeps. 
The  moon  is  full  tomorrow.    After  mid- 
night 
Thou  art  expected. 


73 


ZULEIKA. 
Thy  heart,  Abassa. 

GIAFAR, 

Does  she  expect  me  in  her  private  cham- 


ZULEIKA. 
E'en  on  her  conch — a  paradise  on  earth ! 

GIAFAR. 

Hush,    temptress,    for    thy    words    do 

frighten  me ; 
I  must  not  go. 

ZULEIKA. 

Is  this  thy  final  word  ? 
Farewell ! 

(Makes  ready  to  go.) 

GIAFAR. 

; struggling  with  himself;   when  Zuleika  reach- 
es the  door.) 

Tell  fair  Abassa  I  will  come ! 


So  be  it! 


ZULEIKA, 

(Leaving.) 
(Exit    Zuleika.] 


74 


GIAFAR. 

(Alone.) 

All  is  lost !     The  rock  of  reason, 

The  thought  of  father,  brother,  friend 
and  honor 

Hurled  in  this  hungry  grave!  My 
storm-tried  bark 

Bows  to  the  winds.  If  I  need  pardon, 
mercy, 

May  Allah  grant  it !  If  defiance,  bold- 
ness, 

I  pray  for  that !     If  treachery  be  better. 

Be  that  my  fortune!  Prayers  are  hol- 
low sounds 

In  this  grim  hour.  Shout  and  rejoice, 
Giafar, 

Tomorrow  night  will  end  this  farce  of 
thought ! 

'Tis  destined  all,  and  as  the  river, 
reaching 

The  ocean's  edge,  lists  vainly  to  the 
wooing 

Of  native  springs,  so  I  must  hasten  on ! 

(In  the  rear  of  the  apartment  is  seen  in  dim 
outline  the  vision  of  xA.bassa.) 

My  brain's  aflame!     Is  that  Abassa's 

form? 
Graceful  and  white,  born  of  the  dew  of 

morn? 
Sweet  image !    I  embrace,  I  clasp  thee ! 

Hence 


75 


Naught   shall   retard   me.      Cursed   be 
suspense ! 

(Sinks    fainting    upon   his    couch;     tlie    vision 
vanishes.) 

(Enter   Obeidah   and   Khaled,   who   have  been 
concealed.) 

KEALED. 
He  struggled  obstinately. 

OBEIDAH, 
Yet  I  knew 
That  blood  would  triumph,  and  Zulei- 

ka's  message 
Served    as   a   final   blow.      Our   sweet 

Abassa 
Will   be   quite   unprepared   for   bridal 

pastimes. 
Ere  some  new  scruple  calls  Giaf  ar  back, 
Make  haste  and  get  young  Omar  on  his 

track. 

END  OF  THIRD  ACT. 


76 


Act  IV. 


SCENE— The  Seraglio.  A  part  of  the  in- 
terior of  the  apartment  is  seen  and  a  balcony 
revealing  Hasfana  dreamily  gazing  out  on 
the  starry  heaven.  The  light  of  the  full  moon 
illumines  the  terrace  and  in  the  back- 
ground the  outlines  of  the  city.  The  interior 
shows  Abassa  asleep  on  a  couch,  Obeidah  and 
Khaled  stand  near  the  entrance,  but  remain 
unseen  by  Hasfana.  The  apartment  is  illu- 
mined by  hanging  lamps,  perforated  with 
Oriental  designs;  a  chafing-dish  in  the  center, 
whence  emanate  the  fumes  of  powdered  myrrh 
and  benzoin, 

HASFANA. 

How  still  the  night !    It  wafts  its  moon- 
lit dreams 

Upon  the  foliage  of  the  cypress  grove. 

Oh,  blessed  peace,  come  to  this  lonely 
heart ! 

(Singing.) 

Hast  loved  and  longed  and  lost. 

Sad  Heart,  what  would'st  thou  more? 

The  spar  by  the  tempest  tossed 

Is  drifting  at  last  ashore. 

Art  weary  of  tear  and  smile? 
Of  the  wreath  of  rose  and  thorn? 
Of  the  dream  that  pleases  awhile, 
And  passes  as  soon  as  bom? 

Like  a  child  in  an  unknown  land 
Dost  wonder  and  worry  and  weep, 
Till  Death  with  a  mother's  hand 
Kocks  all  thy  sorrow^s  to  sleep. 


77 


OBEIDAH. 
Is  all  arranged  ? 

KHALED, 

All,  but  the  haughty  Omar 

Declined  to  play  his  part;   scorned  my 

advice 
And  asked  me  scoffing  if  I  knew  the 

difference 
Between  a  dagger  and  a  scimitar. 

OBEIDAH, 

That  devil  wants  a  hell-fire  of  his  own 
To  roast  in.    Is  he  apt  to  come  tonight  ? 

KHALED. 

I  told  him  all ;  but  he  in  senseless  fury 
Paced  up  and  down,  a  lion  in  his  cage, 
And  swore  revenge. 

OBEIDAH. 

This  simply  means  two  nets 
To  catch  our  bird  in.    Hark,  here  comes 
Giafar. 


78 


SCENE    2. 


(Omar  leaps  over  the  balustrade,  is  heard  but 
not  seen  by  Obeidah  and  Khaled.) 

HASFANA, 

(In  greatest  agitation.] 

Celestial  vision!     Oh,  my  heart! 
thou! 

(Hasfana  has  dropped  the  zither,  and  throws 
herself  with  head  bowed,  at  the  feet  of 
Omar.) 

OMAR. 

The   full-orbed  moon  has  marked  the 

hour ;    surprise 
Is  out  of  place. 

OBEIDAH. 

(Still  thinking  Omar  to   be  Giafar.) 

The  mouse  is  safely  trapped 

Thou'rt  caught,  Giafar!      Guard    the 

hallway,  Khaled, 
The  Sultan's  waiting  at  the  eastern  gate, 
I'll  bring  him  hither. 

(Leaving.) 

KHALED. 

(Stopping  him.) 

Stop!     If  he  should  leave 
Ere  thou  returnest. 

OBEIDAH. 

Then  apply  the  poniard. 


79 


KHALED. 
Be  quick.     I  need  thee  in  this  bloody 
hour. 

OBEIDAH. 
Fear  nothing !    Come. 

(They  disappear  behind  the  drapery.) 

OMAB. 

(Who  ])as  looked  silently  and  with  folded  arms 
upon   the    form    of   Hasfana.) 

Arise,  the  moonlight  shadows 
Thy  treach'rous  eye. 

(Leading  her  into  the  center  of  the  room.) 

Can'st  look  on  me  and  blush  not 

For  the  deceptive    part    thou     play'st 

'gainst  me 
In  this  most  complex  plot? 

HA8FANA, 
So  help  me  Allah! 
I  know   not,   noble   Omar,   what  thou 

meanest. 

OMAR. 
Ha!       Calloused    villain!      Innocence 

becomes  thee ! 
Thou  knowest  nothing  of  the  full-orbed 

moon; 
Know'st  nothing  of  the  bridal  night; 

know'st  nothing 
Of  this  appointment ;   aye,  it  were  most 

strange 


80 


If  thou  had^st  ever  heard  Giaf  ar's  name, 
Or  of  Abassa's  love — 

HASFANA. 
Enough,  Prince  Omar! 
Crush  not  with  iron  heel  the  fragile 

flowers 
Of  my  sad  love  for  thee ;   I  fain  would 

take  it 
With    me,    a    stainless    mem'ry,    unto 

death. 

OMAR. 
Thou  speak'st  of  sorrow,  greater  is  mine 

own; 
I  loved  Abassa,  and  the  end — 

HASFANA. 
'Tis  fate 
That  rules  the  destiny  of  hearts,  not 

choice. 
Abassa  loves  another — loves  Giafar. 

OMAR. 

Dar^st  thou  thus  name  the  truth  with 
bold  affront? 

HA8FANA. 
The   Omar  whom  I  knew  would  e'er 
demand  it. 


81 


OMAR. 

Quite  right;  Hasfana,  I  am  mad,  for- 
give me; 

If  thou  dost  love  me,  thou  wilt  pity  me ; 

Thou  know'st  that  there  are  hearts  with 
single  purpose; 

All  else  to  them  is  naught.  Thus  did  I 
cherish 

The  picture  of  Abassa  in  my  heart. 

HASFANA. 
And  thus  in  mine,  I  ever  dreamed  of 
Omar! 

OMAR. 
Would  that  our  love  were  better  placed ; 

the  fates 
Have   willed   it   otherwise.      Tell   me, 

Hasfana, 
If  ever  love  for  me  burned  in  thy  heart, 
Know^st  nothing  of  the  meaning  of  this 
night  ? 

HASFANA. 
I  swear  by  all  the  stars,  thou  doubtest 
falsely. 

OMAR. 
Know'st  nothing  of  Abassa's  secret  mes- 
sage, 
Know'st — 

HASFANA. 
oSTothing. 


82 


OMAR. 
Have  they  ever  met  alone? 

BASF  AN  A. 

They  have — 

OMAR. 
And  on  licentious  conch — 

HA8FANA, 
^o,  never! 

OMAR, 
Thou  liest,  maiden!  ' 

HASFANA, 

Shame!     Prince  Omar,  listen! 

They  parted  as  they  met,  no  carnal  con- 
tact 

Has  ever  stained  their  vows.     Giafar, 
firm, 

Though  suffering;   while  Abassa,  sweet- 
ly dreaming, 

Looked  lovingly  on  him,  who  never  ut- 
tered 

The  fatal  word.     I  am  their  witness, 
Omar — 

OMAR. 

Hark!     There  are  footsteps.     I  must 
not  be  seen 


In  these  apartments.     Let  us  be  con- 
cealed 
Behind  this  drapery. 

(Hasfana  and  Omar  behind  tlie  drapery,  which 
partly  obscures  the  terrace  from  the  gen- 
eral view.) 

GIAFAB. 

(Stepping  slowly  into  the  room,  and  perceiving 
no  one,  approaches  the  divan  where  Abassa 
lies  sleeping.) 

Thou  dreamest,  yet  a  maiden  unpolluted 
By  sensual  embrace.     Repose  of  inno- 
cence ! 
Nature  in  thee  has  formed  her  fairest 

image 
And  stops  perplexed.     Would  that  my 

soul  could  fathom 
The  meaning  of  this  hour,  much  sought, 

much  dreaded, 
'Gainst  which  I  prayed  and  wept  and 

strove  and  struggled 
Until  at  last,  a  feather  in  the  wind, 
I  drifted  hither !    I^Tow,  may  come  what 

will. 
Death  has  no  terrors  after  life  has  giv'n 
Its  choicest  fruit.     Let  fate  prepare  the 

worst ! 

(He  stands  musingly  at  the  foot  of  the  divan.) 


84 


^     OF   THE 

UNIVERSITY 

.OP 


OMAB. 

(Partly  concealed.) 
Thou  did'st  not  wholly  lie,  Hasfana; 

hatred 
Within  me  wars  with  pity. 

GIAFAR. 

(Kneeling  and  kissing  Abassa.) 
With  this  kiss 

I  wake  thee,  loved  one,  for  this  hour  of 
bliss. 

OMAB. 

(Aside.) 
Oh,  agony  of  rage! 

ABAS8A. 

(Awaking.) 
What  sweet  delusion! 

(Recognizing   Giafar.) 

Thou  here,  beloved?     Thou  did'st  send 

no  word 
To  tell  me  of  it. 

GIAFAB. 
I  received  thy  message; 
That  was  enough! 

OMAB. 

(Aside.) 


85 


bQ^c^SS^^ 


ABASSA. 

Thoughts  invisible 

Thou  must  have  turned  to  ministering 
angels. 

QIAFAB, 

(Agitated.) 

Did'st  thou  not  send  me  word  to  meet 

thee 
Eight  after  midnight? 

ABASSA. 
Ever  I  do  long 
For  thy  dear  presence,   and  if  heav'n 

were  starred 
With  million  luminaries  'twere  but  dark 
While  thou  art  absent. 

(Embracing  him.) 

Many  a  night  I  craved 
To  rest  within  thy  arms,  but  pitying 
Thy  soul's  vast  struggle  and  our  dread- 
ed fate 
I  kept  the  word  a  prisoner  on  my  lips. 

GIAFAB. 

Be  it  no  longer  thus.  The  fates  implac- 
able 

Have  fully  planned  the  pathway  of  our 
love. 

Dost  thou  remember — 


ABASSA, 
All  we  ever  dreamed 
Since  first  we  met.  '' 

GIAFAB, 

But  thou  had'st  loved  another. 

ABAS8A. 
When  I  saw  Omar,  my  young  heart  ex- 
panded 
In  wondrous  ecstasy.     I  loved  his  dar- 

His  haughty  mien  and  manners;  like 
a  flower, 

Which,  long  kept  shaded,  struggles  to 
the  sun, 

I  nursed  the  thought  of  him  in  love- 
thrilled  soul. 

OMAR. 

(Aside.)  * 

This  torture  kills  me. 

GIAFAR. 

Enviable  Mortal ! 

Who  witnessed  love,  the  word  surpass- 
ing sweet. 

Between  thy  lips,  first  bursting  into 
bloom ! 


87 


ABA8SA, 


'Twas  passion,  yet  not  love.     Before 

met  thee 

I  had  no  soul ;    I  lived  for  beauty  only 
Of  form  and  face;   it  was  my  happiest 

moment 
To  rise  rejuvenated  from  the  spray 
Of  marble  fountains,  while  the  black, 

long  curls 
Were    streaming   downward     o'er    my 

snowy  form, 
A  brilliant  contrast.    I  would  stand  for 

hours 
Before  the  mirror  as  if  fascinated 
By  my  own  image.     It  was  this  Abassa 
Whom   Omar  loved   and   who   in  turn 

loved  Omar! 


OMAB. 
(Aside.) 

Oh,  flames  of  hell ! 

ABASSA. 

Then  thou  did'st  come,  Giafar, 

A  palm  at  noontide.  Why  I  loved  thee  ? 
Vainly 

I  would  express  it.  First  I  loved  thy 
thoughts. 

Which,  like  great  stars,  arose  in  my  hor- 
izon. 


Kevealing  worlds  unknown;   then  'twas 

thy  presence, 
Thy  winged  and  wondrous  words,  which 

came  like  music 
To  all  my  soul.     And  when  sad  longing 

hovered, 
A  darkening  cloud  upon  thy  lofty  brow, 
My  very  self  would  melt  into  a  balsam 
To  give  relief.     Take  thou  this  heart, 

this  life; 
'Tis  thine  alone. 

OMAR, 

(Aside.) 

Damliation !    I  am  raving ! 

GIAFAR. 

To  linger  in  the  twilight  of  our  dreams, 
'Twere  bliss  indeed !     But,  ah,  the  dusk 

o'ertakes  us. 
Together,      Love,      we're      journeying 

toward  the  night; 
I  am  deceived ;   here  is  some  treachery. 
If  'tis  not  thou  who  led  my  frail  step 

hither. 
Some  villain  plans  my  downfall.    Let's 

be  quick! 
Abassa,  thou  art  mine;    prove  then  to 

me 
This  fondest  truth.     The  entrance  may 

be  guarded; 


We  ne'er  again  may  see  the  day-star's 

rise. 
Yet,  ere  the  wing  of  Azriel  enfolds  us, 
Press  me  in  Love's  embrace  unto  thine 

heart ; 
And  doubly  sweet  will  be  the  night's 

brief  raptures. 
Death  waiting  at  the  door. 

ABA8SA. 

Giafar,  frightened 

I  do  behold  thy  face.  Desist ;  'tis  mad- 
ness! 

Flee,  if  thou  art  betrayed!  Too  dear 
thy  life 

Thus  to  be  flung  aside! 

GIAFAR. 

(Embracing  her  violently.) 

It  may  be  madness. 

But,  Love,  each  minute  counts.     Thy 

hesitation 
May  rob  me  of  the  conquest  which  I 

merit 
By  all  the  agonies  of  sleepless  nights; 
By    all    the  tempests   of  this  blasted 

brain ; 
By  all  I  risked  and  ruined,  loved  and 

lost 
In  this  unequal  strife !    On  to  the  bridal 

couch ! 
Tomorrow — to  the  grave! 


90 


ABASSA. 
The  sword  of  Haroun — 

GIAFAB. 
Aye,  I  fear  it  not. 

I'd  rather  clasp  thee  in  my  arms  and  die 
In  this   embrace,   than  see  thy  virgin 

form 
Deflowered  by  the  ravishes  of  time. 

ABAS8A. 

But  think  of  thy  renown — 

GIAFAB, 

The  cheap  applause 

Of  gaping  throngs  has  been  as  naught  to 

me, 
Since  first  I  loved  thee ;   oh,  my  blood's 

afire! 
I  cast  my  name   and   fame   into   this 

cauldron 
Of  boiling  passions. 

ABASSA. 
Do  but  think,  Giafar, 
Thou  may'st  regret — 


91 


GIAFAB. 

For  this  I'll  have  no  time ; 

I'll  die  tomorrow.     But  this  one  sweet 

hour 
The   envious   gods   shall   not   withhold 

from  me; 
I  want  to  feel  these  sno^vy  arms  around 

me, 
And    fall    asleep    upon    thy    billowed 

breast ; 
Aye,  when  thy  black  and  burning  eyes 

will  close, 
I  know  that  from  my  life  the  last  star 

vanished 
And  naught  is  left  but  death ! 

ABASSA, 
I'll  go  with  thee ! 

GIAFAB. 
I  feel     a     fever  creeping  through  my 

brain. 

ABASSA. 
Ah,   'tis   Zuleika's   curse!      Love   is   a 

flame. 
She  said,  of  hell  and  passion  born;     it 

seeks 
Relief  by  spreading  its  contagious  spell 
Upon     another;      when     the     fire     is 

quenched, 


92 


A  vampire  sucks  the  essence  of  the  soul 
And  turns  the   darling  dream  into   a 

nightmare. 
Desist — 

GIAFAB, 

It  is  too  late.    The  wild  volcano 

Is  bursting  forth,   and  its  destructive 

lava 
Creeps  through  my  veins ;  be  mine,  thou 

tempting  form, 
Or  I  must  die  of  longing — 

ABASSA. 

(Rising,  very  serious.) 

Whatever  thou  askest 

Is  thine.  IVe  planned  in  many  love- 
lorn hours 

For  this  sweet  moment.  On  the  eastern 
side, 

Whence  thou  can'st  see  the  dawn  climb 
o'er  the  hills, 

Aud  watch  the  glimmer  of  the  morning 
star; 

I've  set  apart  a  room  for  thee  and  me. 

There  we'll  repair  for  this  enthrilling 
night. 

Half  star,  half  cloud! 


93 


(Pushing  aside  a  heavy  curtain  which  reveals 
a  broad  starway.  Abassa  leads  the  way 
and  reaches  the  first  landing.  Looking 
back  at  Giafar,  who  stands  hesitatingly 
at  the  foot  of  the  stairway.) 

Ascend,  it  is  thy  wish ! 

GIAFAB. 

I  now  can  say  my  creed  in  one  short 

breath. 
Two  things  are  certain  only :    Love  and 

Death! 
(He  reaches  the  landing  and  lingers  there  in 
an     intense     embrace.       They     disappear 
slowly.) 

OMAR. 

(Stepping  into  the   foreground.) 

Thou  told'st  the  truth,  Hasf  ana,  yet  the 

truth 
Will  hardly  aid  thy  cause.    It  is  enough 
That  even  now  the  oath  is  being  broken, 
So  gravely  pledged. 

EA8FANA. 

Yet  did'st  not  hear  him  say 

He  was  betrayed,  and  that  he  bravely 

struggled 
Until    some   messenger     lured    him    to 

ruin? 

OMAR. 
Yet  both  confessed  that  often  they  had 

planned 
Upon  this  feast  of  love. 


94 


HA8FANA. 
Thy  flaming  eye 

Bodes   ill  for   all;    think  of  the  fair 
Abassa. 

OMAB, 
It  is  this  very  thought  that  drives  me 
mad. 

HASFANA. 
Giaf ar  was  thy  friend. 

OMAR. 
The  very  reason 

Why  I  now  hate  him  as  I  once  did  love 
him. 

(Drawing  his  scimitar.) 

Show  me  the  way. 

HASFANA. 
By  Allah,  thou  art  mad. 

OMAR. 

Where  is  this  couch  of  lust;    show  me 
the  way. 

HA8FANA. 

(Throwing  herself  at  his  feet.) 
IVe  plead  for  fair  Abassa,  whom  thy 

love 
Should  e'er  protect ;  and  for  the  doomed 

Giafar, 
^Vho's  been  a  friend  to  thee  in  storm  and 

calm. 


95 


It  profits  little.     Would  a  spark  could 

fly 

From  the  consuming  flame  that  burns 

for  thee 
In  this,  my  hapless  heart,  into  thine 

own — 
Then  might  I  add;    for  thy  Hasf ana's 


Eefrain  from  violence;    alas,  the  plea 
is  vain ! 

OMAR. 

(Impatient.) 
I  pity  thee,  but  by  the  gods,  Pm  raving 
With  wild  revenge;    think, 
Hasfana,  e'en  now 
He  clasps  her  in  his  arms — 

(Dragging  Hasfana  by  the  arm.) 

Show  me  the  way! 

HASFANA, 
Woe  to  the  man  who  crawls  that  he 

might  rise! 
Is  this  Prince  Omar,  whom  the  world 

admires 
As   the   great   champion   of   dauntless 

courage  ? 
He    turns    assassin    and    on    helpless 

women 
Lets  out  his  violence. 
(Aside.) 


96 


Ha,  I'll  mislead  him ! 


(Pushing  aside  the  curtain  which  leads  to  the 
exit  where  Khaled  lies  concealed.) 

Proceed  then — here's  the  way — the  door 

is  open  1 
(Omar  rushes  into  the  hallway  with  sword  un- 
sheathed.) 

OMAB, 

(Behind  the   curtain.) 
AVho   is   this   snake   which   thus   from 

ambush  strikes  ? 
Stand;  coward! 

(Fighting   behind   the    scene.     Khaled,   pushed 
backward,  becomes  visible,  then  falls.) 

KHALED. 
Vm  undone!     A  fatal  error! 
I  took  thee  for  Giafar. 

(Voice  grows  faint.) 

All  is  lost! 

Obeidah  left  me  in  the  lurch.     I'm  dy- 
ing! 

(Becomes  unconscious.) 

H ASF  AN  A, 

The  fight  has  roused  the  eunuchs,  many 

voices 
Are  drawing  near.     Flee,  ere  thou  art 

discovered ; 
Who  enters  here,  is  lost;     e'en    thou, 

Prince  Omar. 


97 


OMAR.  '- 

A  timely  council ! 

(Rushes  to   the   terrace,  but   halts   suddenly.) 

Ha !   They  watch  the  garden ! 

Must  I  who've  sought  a  thousand  deaths 

in  battle 
Now  perish  like  a  rat  on  burning  ship  ? 

HASFANA, 
I'll  save  thee,  Omar. 

OMAR. 

Nay,  I'd  rather  die ! 

Our  ways  are  parting  and  to  owe  my 
life 

To  thy  too  gen'rous  hand  which  to  pos- 
sess 

The  fates  declined  to  me;  this,  proud 
Hasfana, 

Is  more  than  Omar's  honor  will  permit. 

HASFANA. 

Thou  can'st  repay  my  aid,  not  with  thy 
heart, 

For  'tis  not  thine  to  give,  but  with  an 
off' ring 

More  gen'rous  and  in  keeping  with  thy 
kind. 

Escape  and  soften  Haroun's  angry 
mood 

Towards  the  lovers  who  in  death- 
thrilled  transports 

E'en  noAY  make  ready  for  a  cruel  fate. 


OMAR 
Abassa  and  Giaf  ar — ah,  within  me 
They  rouse  all  hell ! 

HA8FANA. 

The  Sultan  is  to  blame. 

He  forced  this  union  on  Giaf ar's  heart. 

OMAR. 
Did  not  Giafar  ask  Abassa's  hand? 

HASFANA. 

He  merely  bowed  to  Haroun's  will,  not 

thinking 
That  there  was  woman  who  could  melt 

his  heart 
As  did  Abassa. 

OMAR. 
'Twas  a  grave  mistake ! 

HASFANA. 

We  must  not  dally  longer ;   I  hear  foot- 
steps 

Approaching  fast.    Take  thou  this  ring 
and  show  it 

To  him  who  guards  the  outer  entrance, 
whither 

This  hallway  leads. 

(Pushing  aside  a  curtain.) 

Upon  its  recognition 

He'll  let  thee  pass.    Begone ! 


99 


OMAB, 
Come  thou  with  me ! 

HAS  FAN  A. 

If  thou  did'st  love  me,  to  the  brink  of 

death ; 
!N'ow — never ! 

OMAB. 

Maiden  brave,  how  can  I  thank  thee ! 

HASFANA. 

Protect  my  hapless  mistress    and    her 
lover. 

OMAB. 
Thou  shalt  excel  me  not  in  generous 

deeds ; 
I'll  save  them,  though  the  heart  within 
me  bleeds! 

(Exit.) 

OBEIDAH. 

(Entering  with  guards.) 

Who  desecrates  these  sacred  halls  with 
bloodshed 

HASFANA. 

(Pointing  to  Khaled.) 

A  spy  who  paid  the  final  penalty. 


100 


OBEIDAE, 

(Recognizing  Khaled.) 

He's  stirring  still; 

(Stabbing  him.) 
Thus  perish  infamy !  : 

KHALED. 

Obeidah — traitor ! 

(Dies.) 

OBEIDAH. 

Where's  the  hand  that  slew 
This  wretch  contemptible? 

HASFANA. 
He  offered  insult 

And  when  he  dared,  I  struck  him  with 
my  dirk. 

OBEIDAH. 
A  sword  has  wounded  him.    I  want  the 
truth. 

HASFANA. 
It  was  thine  own  sword  then,  there  was 
no  other. 

OBEIDAH. 
Stand  thou  aside;    hey,  eunuchs  search 

the  house, 
The  Khalif  does  command  it;    stop  at 

nothing. 
Abassa's    room    demands    your    special 
care. 


101 


EASFANA. 

(Defiantly.) 
Thou  darest  not;    I  am  my  mistress' 

guard 
And  I  permit  no  insult — 

OBEIDAH. 

(Pushing  her  aside.) 
Place  the  chains 
Around  this  pretty  hand. 

HA8FANA. 

(Drawing  a  dagger.) 
The  first  who  dares — 
Attack  a  hungry  lion  with  a  reed; 
'Twere  wiser  than  to  show  a  weaponed 

front 
To  one  prepared  to  die. 

VOICES. 

Peace,  here's  the  Sultan ! 

(Enter    Al   Raschid.) 


AL  RASCHID. 
What's    this    disturbance  ? 
house  been  searched? 


Has    the 


OBEIDAH. 

We  were   about  to   do  so,  when  this 

slave 
Dared  to  oppose  us. 


102 


AL  RA8CHID, 

Put  lier  into  prison. 
Will  all  my  realm  rebel  and  every  up- 
start 
Defy  the  mighty  Euler  of  the  Faithful  ? 
On  with  the  search! 

(A  curtain  is  pushed  aside;    Giafar  steps  for- 
ward,   calm    and    with    dignity.) 

Alas !    'Tis  thou,  Giafar ! 

GIAFAR. 

Great  Khalif ,  trouble  not  the  innocent ; 
I  am  thy  prisoner. 

END  OF  FOURTH  ACT. 


>S^X^^^^))(g^^^)9^^^%Q^[^^^S 


103 


Act  V. 


SCENE— Interior  of  the  Sultan's  Palace.  Al 
Raschid  in  the  center,  Obeidah  at  his  side. 
Officials  of  State  assembled. 

AL  BASCHID. 
The  ship  of  State  demands  a  steady 

hand 
Amid  the  treacherous  cliffs  that  threaten 

it. 
We've  warred  with  foreign  foes  and  e'er 

victorious 
The  crescent  rises  o'er    a    wondering 

world. 
The  emp'ror  Nicopherus  seeks,  defeated 
At  Omar's  hand,  humiliating  peace. 
This  has  been  granted.    When  our  foes 

are  crushed 
It  does  behoove  us  to  be  merciful. 


With  greater  care  we  view  the  inner 

storm 
Which  has  swept  o'er  us.    Grand  Vizier 

Giafar 
Has  proved  himself  unworthy  of  the 

height 
Where  I  had  placed  him ;  he  has  hurled 

himself 


104 


Into  a  vast  abyss.     The  love  I  showed 

him 
Has    been    the    dirk    with    which    he 

stabbed  his  Master; 
Much  have  I  loved  him;    I  now  hate 

him  more. 
Bring  in  the  prisoner. 

(Enter  Giafar  with  guards.) 

It  is  but  justice 

That  thou  shoukVst  speak  ere  yet  thy 
doom  is  sealed. 

GIAFAB. 

I,  shipwrecked  on  a  desert  isle,  in  vain 
Look  for  the  leafy  grove  of  sympathy. 
The  sun  of  justice  sends  its  scorching 

ray 
Upon  my  heart,  laid  bare,  yet  it  shall 

lighten 
As  well  as  burn.     The  vow  I  broke,  I 

gave 
'Not  knowing  that  there  is  a  Power  Su- 
preme 
Which  rules  the  Sultan  and  his  slaves 

alike — 
A  power  that  tosses    us    from   dust   to 

dust 
And  lights  the  interval  with  passion's 

ray 
!N'ot    minding    our    intents.       If    any 

mercy 


105 


Is  granted  me,  I  pray  for  her  whose  life 
To  mine  is  sadly  linked. 

AL  RASCHID. 
To  tliee,  Obeidah, 
I  leave  his  punishment.      Let    justice 

rule ! 
Lead  off  the  prisoner;     his    presence 

pains  us. 

(Obeidah  follows  the  guards,  leading  Giafar 
away  to  the  door,  and  gives  some  private 
instnictions.) 

(Enter  Omar.) 

Here  comes  the  glory  of  the  Moslem 

host, 
A  sunbeam  bright  to  cheer  this  cloudy 

day, 
Prince  Omar. 

OMAR, 
Haroun,  what  I've  done  is  little 
Compared  with  what  I'd  do,  if  chance 
permitted. 

AL  RASCHID. 

We  know  this,  Omar,  and  to  show  how 

well 
We  treasure  thy  proud  deeds,  ask  for  a 

favor 
And  whatsoe'er  it  be,  we'll  gladly  grant 

it, 


106 


E'en  to  the  very  limits  of  our  realm. 

OMAR, 
Too  great  thy  kindness. 

AL  RASCEID. 
Name  whatever  thou  wilt. 

OMAR. 

Great  Khalif,  I  could  ask  the  fairest 
pearls 

Which  slumber  in  the  deep  of  all  the 
oceans ; 

Could  ask  for  kingdoms,  crowns  and 
palaces. 

I  want  them  not.  Much  simpler  my  re- 
quest : 

1  ask  thee,  Haroun,  for  Abassa's  free- 
dom. 

AL  RASCEID. 
A  strange  demand  from  thee ;  yet,  be  it 
granted ! 

OBEIDAE. 

It  is  too  late ;   Abassa  is  no  more. 

OMAR. 

Dead,  tyrant? 

OBEIDAE. 

Aye,  the  law  demanded  it. 


107 


AL  BASCHID. 
Ask  something  we  can  grant.     We  can- 
not raise 
The  dead  from  out  their  tomb. 


OMAR, 

Still  there  is  time 

To  save  Giafar,  who  e^en  now  has  left 

This  hall. 

OBEIDAH, 
Thev  stabbed  him  in  the  anteroom, 
Lest  his  glib  tongue  might  reach  the 

tender  heart 
Of  his  too  gen'rous  master. 

AL  BASCHID. 

Thou  art  quick, 

Obeidah.    Be  thou  wise  as  well.    Prince 

Omar, 
Ask  something  not  exceeding    human 

powers. 

OBEIDAH, 
I  see  a  singular  flame  in  Omar's  eye 
^Mlich     doth     reveal  to  me  his  inner 

thought ; 
rU  aid  his  cause.   Guards !   Hither  lead 

the  slave. 
(TTasfana  is  led  into  the  center.    She  is  veiled.) 

Great    Khalif,    Omar   loves   this   soft- 
skinned  female. 


108 


And,  though  her  actions  rash  deserve 

thy  anger, 
Thou  might'st,  considering  the  chiefs 

renown. 
Give  for  a  pastime  him  this  pleasing 
toy. 

OMAR. 
Sagacious  as  a  fox  thou  art,  Obeidah, 
And  as  the  pelican,  most  generous — 
Thy    kindly    counsel's    given    ere    'tis 

sought ; 
But  in  this  matter  suffer  me  to  balance 
Thy  judgment  'gainst  my  own. 
(Addressing  Hasfana.) 

Hear  me,  Hasfana, 

Abassa's  dead;    Giafar  is  no  more; 

Wilt  thou  be  Omar's  slave  ?  Then  take 
this  hand 

In  token  that  this  be  thy  heart's  first 
wish ; 

If  not,  raise  up  thine  arm  and  thus  as- 
sure me 

That  thou  will'st  otherwise. 

OBEIDAH, 

Why  thus  consult  her? 

OMAR. 

Because  I'd  have  it  so. 

(Hasfana  lifts  her  arm  and  keeps  it  raised.) 


109 


Courageous  maiden! 
I  grasp  thy  thought  and  bow  to  thy  de- 
cree! 

(To  the  Sultan) 

I  now  can  ask  the  favor? 

AL  BASCHID, 

Speak;    'tis  granted. 

OMAR, 

Am  I  quite  certified  that  this  be  so  ? 

AL  BASCHID. 

Thou  hast  my  word;    I  never  break  a 

promise. 

OMAB, 
And    I    am    sure    this    favor    can    be 

granted ! 

AL  BASCHID, 
Then  it  is  thine! 

OMAB. 
Hear  then,  oh  mighty  Khalif, 
And  all  ye  ministers  who  are  in  council 
Assembled  here;    bear  witness  that  I 

have 
The  Sultan's  word. 
(Pointing  his  finger  toward  the  Grand  Vizier.) 

I  want  Obeidah's  head ! 

END  OF  FIFTH  ACT. 


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